I Am Strong
by mtwordsr
Summary: MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS! Katniss and Peeta explain to their daughter about everything. They tell her the story, they show her the book, and they share how they can stand it.
1. I Am Strong

Hey, guys. I know most of the people who have me on author alert are watching for an HP fic - sorry! I've had Mockingjay on the brain since even before the twenty-fourth, but I haven't had the inspiration to write a fic until now.

Anyway, this is something that came to me after some obsessive thinking, when I wondered about what happened after Mockingjay. Introducing Katniss & Peeta's daughter.

I can only _dream _of affecting people like Suzanne Collins has. So, no: I'm not her, and the Hunger Games is not mine.

* * *

Mother rushes out of the house, eyes wide. I turn to Father, who shakes his head, as if telling me, "Don't worry about it."

I frown, and turn my head slightly. My eyes are still on him, though, and I notice that his eyes – my eyes – are now averted to my brother, who munches on some biscuits. I look down at my book, looking at the words but not really reading. In a few moments, my mother comes back. She looks calm. A bit windswept. But calm.

She turns to me, says my name, and she begins talking like she didn't just run out into the Meadow and start crying. I've _seen _her do it. I wish she'd tell me. She says, "New book?"

I nod curtly. "Yes."

Mother doesn't miss my curtness. Father notices, too. They exchange glances, and immediately I know they're having one of those _parent _moments. Or a husband-wife moment. They don't say anything, though, so I stand up and go into my room to do some unfinished homework.

Later, when my brother leaves to go play with our neighbor, I sit on my bed, just waiting. I _know _today is the day.

Mother and Father never tell me about the "Games".

The mysterious Games.

I learn about that at school, obviously, and I know that everyone in the neighborhood knows something about it that I don't.

I know Mother and Father were involved in it, somehow.

… I just want – need – to know _more_.

I pretend to immerse myself in my homework, listening for Mother's footsteps. She knocks on the door frame, saying, "Knock, knock."

I look up. "Yes?"

Father is standing behind her, holding her hand. With his other hand, he holds the book. The book! It is most definitely the day. The mysterious "book" has proved it. They always avoid showing me the book.

Mother pulls him forward gently, and she sits on the chair near my bed. Father sits on the armrest.

"We need to tell you something," he says calmly.

"What is it?" I ask. For some reason, I don't feel excitement about this... but I look at their faces and I know why.

Mother looks nervous. This is not like Mother. She's always the one who is strong. Well, Father is, too. A different kind of strong. Mother's strong is the one that makes me feel strong, too. I suddenly move over and take her other hand. "I want to know. Please."

All the times she has woken me up from _her _waking up screaming, all the times Father has had little fits... I've never believed that I would have to be the one holding their hand for them. But here I am, and I don't mind. After all, I have woken up from nightmares about skeletons and ghosts and evil men under my bed or in my closet, and they have always helped me. I am _their_ daughter. I am strong.

She smiles a little, and says, "Tell me what you know about the Hunger Games."

"Before you were born... the Capitol was very corrupted," I say, remembering my teacher's words and simply repeating them, "and they forced District Thirteen to hide, but they told the rest of Panem that it was destroyed. To remind them that they... 'destroyed District Thirteen', they created the Hunger Games."

Father nods. "And..."

I recited: "Two children between the ages of 12 and 18 – one boy, one girl – from each District, will be forced into an arena to fight to the death. The last one standing is winner." I pause, looking at their solemn faces, and ask, "You were in them, weren't you?"

"Yes," they both reply together, and I notice that Father's jaw is set. He looks away for a moment, closing his eyes and shutting them so I can see little wrinkles. Mother looks up at him for a second, and then back at me.

"We were in the 74th Games together," Mother says, and she seems to be back to normal.

"But..." My lips push over to one side, confused. I had always presumed that they were victors of different times. "I thought... there was one winner?"

She smiles grimly. "In the middle of the Games, they said that two tributes could win. From the same district."

"Why?" I ask, hiding my eagerness. Years of curiosity has gotten the better of me.

"Because I loved Katniss," Father cuts in. His eyes are still tense, his brows are still furrowed, but he is almost smiling. Then, he corrects himself: "I love Katniss."

"He protected me from Careers, he – do you know what Careers are?" Mother looks at me, raising a brow. I shake my head. "Tributes who trained their whole lives for the Games. They were usually tributes from District 1, 2, and 4."

"Like Annie?" I ask. Then I have to remember his name. Mother, Father, and Haymitch talk about it, when they think I'm in bed. Or they think I'm not listening. "And... Finnick?"

They both smile. Almost. Father replies, "Sort of."

Mother continues. "He whispered my name in his sleep."

I am almost accusing when I ask, "Why didn't _you_?"

This makes them laugh, and I'm probably supposed to be offended that they're not taking my question seriously. "This woman can take some convincing," he explains.

I shrug. "Okay..."

"But to protect me from Careers, he had to be with them himself. When the leader of the Careers caught Peeta protecting me, the leader cut him," says Mother. She sees my eyes widen and her sentence cuts off short.

"Are you all right?" he asks gently.

I nod. "Of course I am."

She hesitates before saying, "So, when I found Peeta, he was wounded."

I listen as they take turns talking to me about it all. From the moments in the cave up until Aunt Prim, and President Coin's death. Mother goes out to greet my brother when he comes home, distracting him. I understand why. Father shows me the book, the pictures and the words. I can feel him watching me as I flip through the pages of it.

The information overwhelms me, but it explains so much, so I am mostly grateful. I can remember standing outside their bedroom door, listening as Father soothes her as she gasps or cries or screams, not even being able to imagine what horror can make Mother – independent, fiery, strong Mother – like that.

Eventually, Mother returns to us, and she joins Father in watching me look at the book. I glance up at last and whisper, "How... how do you stand it?"

"On bad mornings," she says slowly, "it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list of every act of goodness I've seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after all this time..."

Father seems to smile. He finishes quietly, "But there are much worse games to play."

I don't respond, closing my eyes and processing this all.

She asks nervously, "Are you... okay? Are you afraid?"

"Why would I be?" I ask, baffled, opening my eyes at her.

This answer surprises her, but she composes herself. "Tell me how you feel."

I smile and hug the book to my chest. "I feel... thankful. For knowing this. For _you_, for what you did for everyone who's alive. I am sorry that you have those bad mornings, Mother, but those bad mornings for me! For everyone like me... I am..." … inspired, now. "I'm where it's safe, and warm, where the daisies guard me from every harm. Where my dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true. Where you love me."

Mother and Father are smiling truly, now. Father takes me in his arms, putting me on his lap like when I was smaller. I curl up in his lap like I used to, and I look up at her. She kisses my forehead. "I'm so glad. And I do love you, very much," she says, and I remember what Father told me, while she was out. How hard it was for Mother to learn love after my grandfather's death.

"What were you frightened of?" I ask, still slightly perplexed. "Why did you ask me if I was 'okay'?"

"I was afraid that you … would be afraid," she replies awkwardly.

I shake my head vigorously. "Of course not. Well, I am afraid, but that's not all I am. I'm more than that." I grin and lean upwards to hug her. I kiss her cheek. I feel like a little girl again... except not really, because "I'm your daughter. I am strong."

* * *

Hey! I'm glad you read all the way through, but don't just leave me now! Please review? ;D

Also, I know this works fine as a one-shot, and while it'd be totally fine if you didn't continue, I thought that maybe you'd like to know what lies ahead. I wrote this snippet on my Tumblr:

**I AM STRONG **is a sort of "epilogue to the epilogue". In it, I introduce my version of the next generation in the **HUNGER GAMES**: Katniss and Peeta's kids, Gale's kid(s), and their friends, with appearances from old characters like Haymitch and Mrs. Everdeen. It tells the story of Tara Mellark, Katniss' eldest, as she struggles to live under the shadow of the girl on fire, at the same time learning to find the line between friendship and more-than-friendship, and maybe - just _maybe_ - that the line doesn't have to be there at all.


	2. Gale

Okay, I've decided I cannot go with the we-can't-know-their-names thing anymore. I'm sorry. I tried.

Our narrator's name is "Tara", because the Latin name for "dandelion" is taraxacum. Her brother's name is Matz, short for "Matzo". Google it. Yes, plants and bread. I'M A SUCKER FOR THOSE CLICHES. Shoot me.

I just kept wondering what life was like after Mockingjay, so you don't have to wait too long. I'm back. Enjoy.

I wasn't Suzanne Collins last chapter, and I still am not.

* * *

Mother's reading a letter from Grandmother Everdeen, who I've met once in my life, when we went to visit her in 4. She seemed like a sad lady, and when I asked Mother about it, she told me she'd explain one day. Well, she has, now, and it makes a lot of sense that Grandmother Everdeen was a sad lady. _Is _a sad lady.

"What is it, Katniss?" Father asks. He's noticed that she's gotten all white.

"Is something wrong with Grandmother Everdeen?" I ask. Haymitch and my brother look up, now, too. We're having a little gathering – Haymitch and Greasy Sae and her granddaughter are here, and a bunch of other people.

Mother frowns. "What? No. This isn't a letter from my mother."

"Who is it from?" inquires Haymitch, now.

"Er -" Mother furrows her brow. "Gale."

_Gale? _I think, confused. My eyes go to the "book" resting on the bookshelf. I read it over and over again after that night Mother and Father told me, so I know it quite well, but Gale isn't dead. Who's Gale, again? I look to all the grown-ups now.

Father has gone kind of white, like Mother. Haymitch looks surprised. Greasy Sae looks up, eyes wide. The people who were here before District Twelve was "destroyed" all look kind of shocked.

"Who's Gale?" asks my brother. I thank him in my mind for asking the question I wanted to know.

"Gale was your mother's best friend," replied Father, since _she _seems too frazzled to respond.

Matz shrugs. He doesn't find it a big deal, since he doesn't notice how everyone looks all surprised. "I don't get it," I announce loudly.

Mother ignores me and says, "He... he wants to come visit, Peeta."

"And why shouldn't he?" says Haymitch gruffly.

"Oh, I don't know," says Father sarcastically, "why shouldn't he want to come to a place where -" Mother shoots a look at him. I know that look. It's the, "don't-tell-the-kids-are-here" look.

"What do you think?" she asks, leaning toward Father.

"I don't mind him coming," he replies, and Mother frowns. It wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"I don't get it!" I exclaim. "Why is it a problem, if he was Mother's best friend?"

Haymitch says in an uncommonly patient voice, "It's a bit of a long story, sweetheart." I look at him resentfully. I've _always _told him to stop calling me that. That's what he calls Mother, too. I don't_like _being called sweetheart by anybody but Mother or Father. Haymitch smells bad.

"I guess... Gale is coming to visit," Greasy Sae says, as if confirming for everyone in the room.

Mother nods, still looking worried and confused and typically motherly stressed. "Gale is coming to visit."

...

I can hear the knock on the door, and Haymitch gets it. I'm sitting on the stairs, so I can't see past Haymitch, and the top of the door frame is blocking the mysterious Gale's face. Mother and Father suddenly scurry out of the kitchen. Mother hugs him. Father shakes his hand. I'm toying with a flower that Father gave me from his garden. It's one of his best, prettiest ones. I insert it behind my ear, so the petals are right in front of my hair.

My brother comes to crouch behind me. "Is that -"

I whisper back, "Yes, it's Gale."

Down in the foyer, Mother says, "So many years, Gale... why now?"

"I saw your mother," he replies, "I felt like... I had to visit." There's an awkward pause. "You've all been doing very well here?"

"Yeah," Father replies. He sounds stiff, and as if to make a point, he asks, "How's your wife?"

"She's well. She's with my mother in town, with my son," Gale answers. I stand up and take a step down, forgetting that's the step that creaks loudly.

They all turn to my brother and me, and we awkwardly step back a little. I can see Gale clearly now. He must be from the "Seam", since he looks like Mother. He has the same color hair as I do, and the same color eyes as my brother. He smiles. "So..."

Mother is looking up at us with a reassuring smile. "Come on down, kids."

"I don't bite," adds Gale. So we move on down the stairs. He's looking at us curiously. "Perfect mixes." I realize he's referring to my dark hair, blue eyes, and my brother's blonde hair, grey eyes.

Father laughs. Mother looks surprised. He agrees: "Yeah." He introduces us: "This is Tara, and Matz."

"How old are you?" he asks us.

"I'm 12," I reply, and say for my brother, "And he's 7."

"Nice to meet you," he says.

There's an awkward silence which my brother breaks. "You've got a son?"

"He's 14," he replies. "Would you like to meet him?"

My brother nods eagerly. He glances up at Father and Mother. "Can I? Can I, _please_?"

So, we go. Father walks with my brother and Gale in front. Haymitch, Mother and I trail behind. "I still don't understand."

"What don't you understand?" they ask together. They're very alike, Mother and Haymitch.

"Why is everyone so awkward because of Gale?" I ask, almost more to myself.

"Gale and your father had a thing for your mother at the same time," Haymitch replies bluntly. Mother widens her eyes and hits him on the arm. He says, "Well, it's true. It's not like she can't handle it. She's _your _daughter." For once, I am thankful of Haymitch.

"What happened?" I inquire eagerly. "Tell me about it, Mother, please?"

Mother groans. "Gale and I were hunting partners, when I was your age." So Gale is the mysterious hunting partner that Mother mentioned passively sometimes... "14, and already looked like a man. We were both the leaders of our family at young ages. We grew very close." She goes on to explain again about how Aunt Prim died, and how they will never know if it was Gale's bomb. How she will never be able to look at him without thinking of Aunt Prim. She explains to me, however, that it would have been the same, no matter what – she would have chosen Father.

We arrive at Hazelle's house. I don't talk to Hazelle often. I don't talk to Rory or Vick or Posy often, either, which isn't something I can say for most of the other older people in our neighborhood. We're a tight-knit community around where my family lives, but I've never really considered it strange that I don't talk to Hazelle's kids or grandkids. I do know Rory, Vick, and Posy's children, but we aren't really friends. We just... don't talk. No particular reason, but... we don't. I never considered that Hazelle had another son, or what her history was with Mother or Father.

At the table, talking to Hazelle, is a woman who is not from District Twelve. She has red-brown hair and bright brown eyes. Her son has her colors, but he is the same build as his father. "Hello, everyone!" Hazelle greets, standing up from her chair and going to greet us. She hands Matz and me some cookies.

"Thank you," I say for both of us, since my brother has just started munching on his. Never stops eating...

"My wife, Lira, and my son, Riegan," says Gale. "This is Katniss and Peeta. Riegan, why don't you take Tara and Matz out into the garden?"

Riegan stands up and complies. The door to the outside is left open. Right next to the door is the garden. I smile. I know gardens well, and Hazelle's can only be contested by my father's garden. I find that I am reaching out to a certain flower that my father doesn't grow often.

"Don't touch it, Cara," says Riegan sharply, "Grandmother works hard on this."

"My name's _Tara_," I correct him haughtily, "and I wasn't going to ruin it. My father has a garden and his doesn't have this flower. I just wanted to look at it." He has not set a good first impression with me – I keep thinking of Aunt Prim, now, connecting him to his father and all the doubts about _him_.

I can see, past the door frame, the adults have peered out to listen. My parents and Riegan's parents are smiling. Gale and Mother exhale, "Oh, _no_." They don't think I can hear. They _never_think I can hear. But I always hear, I just never know what they mean.

He is scowling as he asks, "What about the flower in your hair, then?"

"Father grows these ones more," I say. "I like primroses."

"May I see?" he asks.

I pull it out of my hair and say, taunting his earlier words, "Don't ruin it. Father works hard on these."

Then, he smiles, and it transforms him from someone menacing into someone I wished I knew.

* * *

Reviewreviewreviewreview!


	3. Real, or Not Real?

Hi guys!

I'm really getting into Tara's character. I officially love her.

Comment: So hard to think about Katniss' personality when, in this story, she's "Mother". It's weird.

So after some complaints -cough- about how short my chapters are, here's a _long_, rambling chapter. 2,000 words longer than usual. I hate myself for including romance into this, but I just take dictation for these characters, really, as I always do when I'm writing.

(Also, I don't mind the "complaint". I was joking :D More reason to write, yeah?)

Thank you so much for all the reviews! It makes my day whenever I get an email from when I get a story/author alert, or that someone's favorited one of my stories. Even if the review is just plain critique, it lets me know that someone enjoyed the fic enough to help me make it better. If its hate... well... keep it to yourself, meanie.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own enough amounts of awesome to be Suzanne Collins. (I'm not SCollins, and I don't own the Hunger Games.)

* * *

The Hawthornes choose to stay for a month. My father convinced them to – because of my birthday, at the end of that month. Matz really likes Riegan. Matz thinks Riegan's exactly what he himself wants to be when he's 14, but Riegan still hasn't completely won _me_ over. I still feel like I'm _forced _to visit the Hawthornes instead of me wanting to go.

When Father and Gale are sitting together in the study, I sit just outside, eavesdropping. It's what I do. Matz and Riegan are with Mother, Lira, and Hazelle, outside. The way Father and Gale talk, its like they're old friends. Except... not really. I know they're not.

"Is she still as difficult as she was before?" Gale asks.

Father laughs. "Do you expect it to be any different?"

This is what they have in common. _Mother._ I feel strangely protective. Maybe it's because I can't imagine Mother with anybody else, and the idea of it makes me mad.

Gale sounds amused when he says, "No, I guess I didn't."

"Are you happy with Lira?" asks Father.

"Don't worry," says Gale after a pause. I peek through the open space in the door and see that he's smiling. "Yes, I am very happy with Lira... I'm like Katniss, in that way, I guess. She and I both have too much fire. We don't need more of it. She needs what you have, like I need what Lira has. What you two can _give_."

After all these years, Gale still knows my mother so well.

"It's been long," Father comments after a short pause.

Gale sighs. "Yes."

"Are you sorry?" Father asks. "Do you wish that you stayed, even as a friend? Are you sorry that you distanced yourself from her?"

"Did I? No, I didn't. At least, not on purpose. It would always have ended up like this, anyway, Peeta," he says. "She always would have chosen you."

"She tells me that."

I try to see if there's any bitterness when Gale replies, but there's none. "I know."

"Tara!"

I look up in surprise. Riegan and Matz have come in, both splattered in mud. I stand up and usher them back out – I know they've been throwing mud at each other. I used to play that sort of game with Matz because we always have a lot of mud this time of year... but that was a long time ago. I don't know why I stopped, really. Matz begs me to play with him again, because he knows he's gotten better, and now he stands a chance against me.

"I _just _cleaned the floors for Mother. Can you not?"

They grin, immediately annoying me more.

"Sorry, Maid Tara," Matz teases.

"Get out! I'll be right there," I say, poking him, and pushing them back out the door. I rush off and drag a towel on the floor over their mess. Then, I walk outside.

"What have you been doing, Tara?" asks Mother, putting her arm around me. I'm up to her ears now, in height. She begs for me not to grow any taller. Father teases that she'll be the littlest one in the family one day.

"I've been -"

"Eavesdropping on Father," Matz interrupts. Riegan snickers, and I don't believe he's 14. I recall Mother's description of Gale, when they first met: _14, and already looked like a man. _Riegan _looks_enough like a man, but so far, he's every bit a boy as Matz is.

"Tara..." says Mother, using her "stern" voice.

I shake my head innocently. "I was just sitting outside his office. I was taking a break after cleaning the kitchen."

"Sure you were." Mother smiles and sits on the garden swing next to Lira and Hazelle.

Lira takes my hand. She is like the female version of Father. Gentle. But that isn't the same as weak, because they're not. "Tara, what would you like for your birthday? Gale and I don't know you well enough, and neither does Riegan. Your mother won't tell me."

"I'd love if you surprised me," I say, as sweetly as I can. "Truly. I love surprises."

"Ah, I should have known you'd never give us a straight answer," says Lira with a grin. "People never tell us what they want for their birthday."

"Surprise me!" I tell her eagerly, sauntering over to Riegan and Matz. I scoop some mud up in my hand and toy with it. "I would appreciate it, Lira."

Mother smirks. "Boys, I suggest you back away. She's got my aim." Gale and Father walk out now.

Father chuckles when Gale says, "If her aim's half as good as her mother's, you're going to be dark all over in a matter of seconds."

Matz, who knows from experience how ruthless I could be with mud in my hand, takes three steps backward. He isn't as afraid as he was when we were much younger, because he knows I'm out of practice, _and _he's older. Riegan, however, stands his ground. He bends over, takes some mud in his hand and challenges, "Hit me with your best shot."

I scoff and throw the mud right in his face. It splatters all over, even getting some down his shirt. I giggle and gather more to throw in Matz' direction. I dodge the one Riegan throws, and it gets Father and Gale, instead. I burst out laughing at the mud on their shirts.

"Riegan!" Gale cries.

"Tara!" is what Father cries, because I'm laughing at them, and I know it's rude. But... it's funny, and I can't help it.

I stifle my giggles, but I pay for my distraction because both Matz and Riegan have gotten me, on the hip and the stomach. I scowl at them and defend myself by hiding behind the mothers.

"Chicken," Father teases, tickling me. I burst into giggles, and I'm at his mercy, because the boys have come around me, armed with mud.

"NOOOOO!" I squeal, and I fight off Father to run.

I catch my mother's eyes, and she looks so amused. I think, _She's never done this. Not like I'm doing it. Her life was never like this._

I wonder if she ever considered life to be like this after all she's been through. So carefree. I know she still hasn't gotten used to this, even after how long its been. It's why she hunts, even though she doesn't need to. I can't imagine what I'd do, if I was born into what she was born into. What is the transition like between worrying and stressing every single day into this life?

Ah! Why do I get so distracted? My ears are filled with mud. I squeal and jump up and down, disgusted. "Ewwww!" I screech, shaking the mud out of my hair. I see that Matz, Riegan, _and _Father's hands are dirty with mud, and I know I can blame all of them for the mess. Everyone is laughing – at me? I join in with the laughter... _after all_, I think, collecting more ammo, _there are much worse games than these to play!_

...

I have invited a friend – a girl named Elli – over when the Hawthornes come over as well. Matz runs to the front door to greet Riegan. Elli and I stifle laughs as he nearly trips over the rug. Gale and Lira ask where my parents are, and I direct them to Haymitch's. Riegan stays with Elli, Matz, and me.

"You're from Two?" Elli asks him.

"Yep. We're staying here until Tara's birthday," he replies, looking at me. "You wouldn't, by any chance, know what she wants for her birthday, Elli?"

Elli nodded. "But only what _I'm _getting her. I don't have any other ideas."

"Shame." Riegan grins.

Matz tugs on his sleeve. "Come _on_, you told us we'd play the Hunger Game."

I freeze. "What?"

"Hunger Game," Riegan repeated, and he notes the horrified look in my eyes, because he tells Elli and Matz to go ahead. Matz looks disgruntled but they go out to the Meadow anyway.

"You _can't _tell my brother about the Hunger Games. Not yet," I say.

"And why not?" he asks. "Don't they teach you in school?"

I'm miffed by that. "Yes! But it's different for _us_. Mother and Father were important in it."

"So was my dad, in case you've forgotten," he shoots back.

"Yeah, in killing my aunt," I retort.

Riegan scowls. "We don't know that."

I shake my head. "Just... don't tell him, okay, Riegan? Mother and Father haven't told him yet. He's just 7."

"And you're just 12," he says coolly.

I gape at him. This irritates me, because even though he's 2 years older, he still seems to be Matz' age to me. "And so? My parents have chosen to tell me at this time, and they haven't told Matz yet. For a reason. He's not ready to know everything they've been through."

"It's just a game, Tara!" he says. "We're going to play a harmless game of 'Hunger Game'."

"What exactly is it?" I ask suspiciously.

Riegan shrugs. "Throwing mud. Wrestling. Mock Hunger Games." I don't respond, crossing my arms. He smirks at me and says, "Care to join us?"

I grit my teeth, not responding. I just stalk off.

One: I can't take any chances. I don't want Riegan to tell Matz whatever Gale told him about the Hunger Games. Matz needs to know Mother and Father's version first.

Two: Yes, I do actually want to play.

Once she hears that it involves fighting, Elli chooses to play the roles of a sponsor and a Gamemaker. She likes to stay clean.

Matz whines, "Not fair! Elli's only going to help Tara!"

"Should have gotten yourself your own sponsor, then!" I tease, taking my place in the ring of flowers that creates the starting position. We have established that the only way to lose is if either we're on the ground for three or more seconds, or if another player can touch us with the palm of their hand.

Elli says, "Let the 77th Hunger Games begin!"

And I run off to what is our Cornucopia, which is just a large mud puddle in the Meadow. Riegan gets there first. I take the end of the puddle furthest from him, and he grins at Matz. "Allies?"

I gasp. "Not fair!" I cry, scooping up some of the mud.

Matz laughs. "You should have gotten yourself your own ally, then!"

"Oh, well, I'll be happy with my sponsor, if she actually gets something." I grin at Elli, who has run off to the trees. I trust she's being resourceful for me, though. I hope she is, anyway.

I run and dodge their shots, but they chase me far enough from the "Cornucopia" to prevent me from getting any "weapons". Elli has returned, now, and she has a long branch for me. I grin. "Thanks, Elli."

She gives me a brief giggle before running away again, burying the other branches she has in her hand in the mud. If my brother and Riegan want weapons, they need to dig deep for it. This is, much to my shock, quite fun.

_Of course it is_, I think to myself, _I'm not going to die._

Getting the branches would mean turning their back to me. Turning their back to me would mean being at risk. I am grinning.

Riegan tells Matz to keep watch, and he bends down to try and retrieve the branches. He sends mud in my direction, and I dodge it. I lunge forward, bend down, and send mud in my brother's direction, nimbly hitting the ball of mud with the branch he throws at me. It splatters all over my face. I move forward toward him as he bends down to get another scoop, and I press my dirty palm on his shirt. He groans.

Riegan has his "sword" up, now, and I strike eagerly. This is _fun_.

I can't believe how fun it is!

We're "swordfighting", now, and the only reason I'm holding up so well is because I don't want the stick to hit my knuckles. I catch him in a block, and I whip my branch up to knock his out of his hands. It repels into the air, landing a foot away. I grin and seize his wrist before he can reach out to grab it.

It's then that I realize that, at the edge of the Meadow, all the grown-ups are watching. Even Haymitch. I gasp, and drop the branch and Riegan's wrist, staring at them in shock.

Riegan and Matz turn around. Elli looks at us, wondering what's wrong. The four of us jog toward them.

"Oh, Riegan, you're a mess," says Lira, smiling ruefully.

"You're not usually this messy, Tara," Father comments, smiling a little.

"We were playing the Hunger Game!" says Matz tactlessly. Not that he knows. I blush, and I look sideways to notice that Riegan has colored a little, as well.

"Hunger Game?" repeats Mother, blinking.

Matz nodded and chirps, "Riegan and I were allies and Elli was a sponsor and a Gamemaker!"

"So..." says Gale slowly, and I think he's about to scold us when he turns to Riegan. "... you lost to Tara?"

My lips grow into a smile, and any doubts I have about Mr. Hawthorne have disappeared. I like him. Riegan mutters, "Well, yes."

"We were watching," Father tells me, amused. "Where did you learn how to do that, Tara?"

I grin. "I learned on the spot. I just didn't let him hit me."

"Nice strategy," says Haymitch, looking at my parents with a smirk. "I think she could be better at swordfighting than either of you were, but she's definitely got your blood."

"I've got their blood, too!" interrupts Matz resentfully. "Don't I, Haymitch?"

"Oh, yeah." Haymitch grins. I know he prefers Matz to me. "A different kind of blood."

But even if he does prefer Matz to me, I feel strangely satisfied that Haymitch, mentor of tributes, thought my swordfighting skills weren't just mediocre. I think it's the first time I've been commended for a real skill that I feel like I can truly enjoy.

Lira says, "Ah, come on. Let's go to the house and clean you guys up."

Later, after I've changed and washed my muddy skin, I go down to the living room, where Riegan sits, alone. I sit beside him and say, "So, how does it feel to lose?"

Riegan doesn't scowl at me, as I expect, but smiles. He changes again, into that person I wished I knew. "Wallow in your pride for now, Mellark, but I'll win next time."

"There's going to be a next time?" I ask, finding myself smiling back.

His smile widens as he leans toward me. He challenges, "You aren't scared you just won by luck?"

I laugh. "Not even."

Even later, when the Hawthornes leave, my mother and I sit on the porch steps. She puts her arm around me and looks at me expectantly. "What do you think of them, Tara?"

"I think..." My sentence trails off. "I don't know what I think of them yet."

"Do you like them?"

I hesitate. "I like Gale. And Lira."

"Oh? You don't like Riegan?" Mother frowns, confused.

"He's all right," I say with a shrug. "But I haven't decided if I like him, yet. Matz likes him a lot, if that's any good."

Mother laughs and nods. "Will you tell me when you decide?"

"Mhm."

Pause.

"Are you just going to stay here, Tara?"

I shrug.

Mother ruffles my hair. "Okay." She stands up and leaves the door open as she walks into the house. I scoot over on the porch to see what she's going to do. Father is there, holding the back of the chair. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his jaw is clenched, and he is very red.

"Peeta," Mother whispers, crouching in front of him.

His eyes open, and he's breathing heavily. I know it's not one of the easier visions he's having. I stand up and stay a distance, watching.

"Katniss..." he breathes tiredly, looking into her eyes determinedly. I can tell he's trying to remind himself what _he _believes, not what his false memories are telling him. I'm scared, because his muscles look like when they're about to wrestle something. They're all tensed and... frightening.

And because she's Mother, and because she likes her lists, she takes a chair and sits in front of him.

"I love how you're there when I wake up from my nightmares, because it proves my nightmares aren't true... how you never forget that I like the dandelions and I like to have them whenever its spring. How you care for and tease Tara and Matz like my own father used to... I love how you can paint beauty, not only with colors and paints but with words, and how you can see me, now, everything you love and everything that is bad, but true, and you accept me anyway."

I feel so embarrassed when I watch her press her lips to his, and she whispers, so quietly that I almost can't hear it: "I love _you_, Peeta Mellark, no matter what your memories think."

Father closes his eyes tightly again, but his grip on the back of the chair loosens. He relaxes, exhales, and kisses her. "Thanks, Katniss."

"Any time." Mother smiles. "They're gone for now. Real or not real?"

Father nods, still disconcerted, but relaxed. "Real." I know this game.

He turns to me, and I realize that I've been scared to death. He opens his arms to me, and I walk into them.

"They'll go away someday. Real or not real?" I ask him hopelessly.

They both exchange glances and sigh. Father says, "Not real, Tara, but that's okay." I must be looking sad because Father hugs me tightly. "Don't worry, dandelion." I was probably around 9 when he last called me that... why did he stop?

"How is it okay?" I ask.

"Because in exchange for my nightmares and your father's 'shiny' memories, you're in a world where you're safe," says Mother gently. That was what I had told her just a few nights ago. I look down, still feeling a little disappointed that Father will always have those scary visions.

"Time for sleep?" Father suggests, and my protest gets cut off by a ridiculously huge yawn. They both smile and Father scoops me up in his arms.

As he takes me upstairs, Mother walks beside me, singing. I can see the open windows, before my eyes close, and I'm sure that outside, even the birds have stopped to listen...

* * *

As always, please review! Like I said, it makes my day.

**Next chapter's first few lines (because Tara makes me lol):**

The next morning I am awoken by the sun bathing my room in light. I groan and shield my eyes as I look to see who my attacker is.

"Good morning, Miss Mellark!"

Riegan? I groan again, pulling myself under the covers because first of all, I don't want to be awake. Secondly, Riegan Hawthorne _cannot _see me in my pajamas.

"I am here on a mission today," he announces.


	4. Play Date

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

The next morning I am awoken by the sun bathing my room in light. I groan and shield my eyes as I look to see who my attacker is.

"Good morning, Miss Mellark!"

Riegan? I groan again, pulling myself under the covers because first of all, I don't want to be awake. Secondly, Riegan Hawthorne _cannot _see me in my pajamas.

"I am here on a mission today," he announces, pulling at my sheets. I retaliate, but there are again, two reasons why I am losing this fight. One, he's stronger. Two, my grogginess has taken a toll on me.

I grumble disbelievingly, "My parents let you in?"

"No. Matz answered the door, but then I explained to your parents my mission and they all but shoved me upstairs." I catch his smirk through my squinting eyes and I feel tempted to strangle him.

No, I'm not a morning person.

"And what, pray tell, is this mission?" I ask, relenting and sitting up in bed.

Riegan sighs. "Well, my parents still don't know what to get you for your birthday, so I'm taking you and your brother out on a play date. Parent orders."

The word "play" preceded it, but I'm still blushing. Why am I blushing? I scowl. "What?"

"I need to get to know you, thereby knowing what you want for your birthday," he replies cheerfully. "I was supposed to just take you out on a date, but then taking your brother makes it a play date. He requested that he... chaperone. His words, not mine."

The heat I'm feeling on my face shouldn't be legal. I repeat in my head that it's on parents' orders. "And this play date couldn't wait until after lunch?"

"It's 10:00 in the morning, anyway, Tara!" he exclaims, laughing.

I sigh. "Get out." I see that he looks a mix of insulted and determined, and I say, embarrassed and irritated, "I need to _change_, you idiot!"

And so, after some time, I trudge downstairs with an unfriendly look on my face. Mother whistles a dark tune, and Father warns Riegan and Matz, "Something wicked this way comes, boys..." I shoot him a cold glare, and this just makes him laugh even more.

Mother grins. She's wearing her hunting clothes. "My little girl, on her first date!" She's just teasing, I know, since she never talks like that. She tosses me a yellow ribbon.

"It's not a date!" I cry, tying my hair up with the ribbon. Father's beside himself in laughter. "It's a _play _date."

"I thought it was a date," Matz says, looking up at Riegan.

"It's a play date," he corrects, unperturbed.

Father chokes his laughter and says to Riegan, "Are you taking notes? The first one might be: cranky in the morning."

I resist the urge to stamp my foot like a cranky little girl.

… which, I realize, I am.

I sigh and stomp out the door instead, making sure to hit stupid-idiot-ridiculous Riegan with my shoulder on the way out. This only results in Riegan choking back his giggles. Father doesn't even hold back, laughing like he was before. Mother tells them to stop, but I bet she's laughing on the inside, too.

I try to think. There's no _rational _reason why I'm so cranky. I could have one, if he woke me up earlier, but 10:00 A.M. is a decent time to wake up. He's also doing this to get me a gift for my birthday, so I shouldn't be complaining.

_That _is when I realize it's the idea of a date with Riegan. I refuse to think about this, so my thought process goes something like this:

_Inhale. Raise left foot, drop left foot slightly ahead. Exhale. Raise right foot – inhale – drop right foot slightly ahead. Oh, don't forget to move your arms._

He and Matz reach me, and Matz asks me, "Why so cranky this morning, Tara?"

"Because I -" I stop talking, and take a deep breath. "I'm done. I'll try not to be cranky anymore."

"Good. Now, you're heading the wrong way. I do believe I was leading this play date," says Riegan, and my temper flares up again, but I grit my teeth and turn around again.

After a minute or two of walking, I ask him, "Do you actually have something in mind, or are we just aimlessly walking?"

"Well, if we were aimlessly walking, I wouldn't get to know you very well, would I?" he asks, smiling.

I find myself smiling back. I tell him, "You know, you should smile like that more often, instead of snicker and scowl at me. It improves your look _a lot_... you look more agreeable."

This brings on that familiar scowl, because I implied that he doesn't look normally agreeable. I grin. He says, "I might be determined to frown all day for you, then."

I laugh. "Where are we going, Riegan?"

"To the woods," he replies with a cheeky grin.

"The woods have animals in it," I say blankly.

Riegan laughs. "Well, you've hunted with your mother before, haven't you?"

I glance back to my brother. "Matz hasn't."

"We'll protect him!" Riegan says cheerfully. Matz laughs. Well, okay, fine, if they're so confident about the woods, so will I. However, Riegan can still catch my furrowed brow. He grins at me. "Relax, Tara. I had my dad show me around."

I know what this probably means.

Sure enough, Riegan leads me to a rock ledge looking over a valley, protected from unwanted eyes by a thicket of berrybushes. Mother used to call it "her place". Now, of course, I realize that its not hers: it's hers and Gale's. This makes me feel like I'm suddenly violating it. "Did your father tell you … about his friendship with my mother?"

Riegan looks a little distant. "Yeah." He glances at me, and then at Matz, who is obviously distracted. "My father loved Katniss."

I clear my throat. "Past tense." Because that's all that matters.

Riegan, I think, can sense the finality of it. He reaches out and takes some of the blackberries from the bushes around us. He tosses one up in the air and catches it with his mouth. He smiles and says, "Can you catch it?"

"No," I say honestly. Naturally, he throws one my way anyway, and I do try to open my mouth and catch it, but it bumps against my cheekbone. "That was a bad throw," I accuse.

He laughs. "No, you just moved your head." He lies down on the grass, so I sit a foot or two away from him. "I'm going to ask you questions, and you provide simple answers. Got it?"

I had forgotten that this day was devoted to getting to know me. "Yes, sir."

"Is your favorite color yellow?"

Startled, I say, "Yes. How did you -"

"Ah-ah," he wags a finger in my direction. "Simple answers."

I cross my arms and sit back. His interrogation continues on for about fifteen minutes, Matz laughing at certain points. Riegan asks me everything, from what my favorite District is, aside from Twelve (that would be Four), and what I like to do in my spare time. Eventually, when he comes to a pause about what to ask me, I say, "How did you know my favorite color was yellow?"

"I had a feeling you're a flower type of girl."

I raise a brow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, first of all, there was the primrose in your hair when we first met. Then, there's the whole thing with the dandelions..." He looks up at me questioningly. "Which do you prefer, by the way?"

"I like both equally. They're both my favorites," I reply.

Riegan doesn't like this answer, but he takes it. "Okay. Well, aside from your choice in flowers, I also saw that your room was mostly yellow." He then looks pointedly at my head. "And you always wear something yellow. Like the ribbon."

Matz announces, "I'm going to go climb some trees."

"Don't go too far!" I call out as he traipses off into the woods. Matz sticks his tongue out at me. I take it as an "okay".

With Matz gone, Riegan takes the opportunity to talk about some things he couldn't talk about while Matz was there. I temporarily forget that he's trying to get to know me to find out what I want for my birthday, not just for the sole purpose of getting to know me. This part, I know, is not that kind of interrogation.

"Do you know why your mother chose your father instead of mine?" asks Riegan, playing with a berry.

I nod. "Yes. It's the same reason your father married your mother instead of mine."

"What's that?" Clearly, Riegan hasn't heard this explanation before.

"They're both... machines. Well, no. They're both... fighters. You know? They're both angry at things." I'm not explaining it well. "That's what I overheard – that's what Mother tells Father."

Riegan grins. "What you _heard _while _eavesdropping _on our _fathers_."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, fine, that."

"Go on explaining," he prompts.

"That's basically it... I mean, they're both too alike. Do you know how... in those little puzzle pieces, some pieces are exactly the same, but some pieces fit exactly together? Gale and my mother were two pieces that were the same, but my parents fit exactly together. There's a difference."

Riegan just smiles. I sit silently, watching him.

After a few seconds: "What bothers you about the Hunger Games? Feel free to give me a long-winded answer."

I frown. "Everything's wrong about it. My parents had to consider, had to be the causes of other peoples' deaths, if it meant coming home, making sure the other one came home, or ending the stupid 'war'. People had to die because of the Hunger Games. So many wasted lives. That, and people had to watch! I can't imagine having to watch someone like Matz or Elli _die _right on the television!"

"Death. You hate death." Riegan seems to have come to a revelation, here.

"Obviously..."

Riegan smiles. "I know what I'm getting you for your birthday."

* * *

I apologize for how I just cut it off there. I really wanted you to have something in the morning, and I have high school orientation today. Then I'm dropping by a friends' house for the afternoon, so I won't be here until after dinner, and that might be too late for some of you :D So, this is a hasty chapter – I did my best!

R to the E to the V to the I, E, W! What's that spell? REVIEW! (Please?)


	5. Happy Birthday

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

A month after my "play date", I awake to birds chirping outside my open window. I guess that I have slept through the morning, but I look through the window and see that it's probably just past nine o'clock. I lie there in bed for a few minutes, pondering on a dream I had about cake, when a groundbreaking thought occurs to me: I am thirteen years old today.

I sit up suddenly, and I am greeted by a little round table with gifts. I smile and throw the sheets off my legs, crawling to the edge of my bed to see what my friends and family have given to me. Honestly, I've stopped caring so much about gifts – it's been a long time since material things have enticed me so much. I know what I am looking for...

I try and calm myself, looking through the gifts. I know my parents have not given me their gift yet. My mother promises me a song on my birthday – which may sound like nothing to a stranger, but that is a pleasure to me – and my father is to bake me a cake grander than the one the year before. It's always grander than the year before... if he keeps up with his promise, it has more than enough layers than people can eat.

On the edge of the table, closet to me, is a drawing. I can recognize a kid's drawing anywhere. I grin and pick it up. It's me, of course, holding up a sword, wearing something like Mother's hunting clothes. Written in his terrible handwriting, beside the drawing:

_Happy birthday, Taraxemum!_

_Love,_

_Matz_

Of course, he gets the name wrong. I sigh and shrug to myself. Often, I don't even remember, either. It's not actually my name, but still. I place the drawing beside me on the bed. There is a dress from Elli (I mentally remind myself to wear it at the dinner tonight), a book from another friend, a necklace from another. I look through them, wearing affectionate expressions as I do. It's only when I finish reading all the cards and opening all the boxes that I realize that I still haven't found the Hawthornes'.

It's only then that I look around the room, and I notice something on the window sill. It's one of Mother's arrows, standing with the point on the ledge. I scramble off my bed and walk up to it. It's a card. Beside it, a clump of dandelions, tied together with a rubber band at the stems. The first lines of the note are of Mother's handwriting.

_The dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad the losses. That it can be good again._

Beneath, however, its someone else's. Riegan's.

_Hold back your tears, Miss Tara._

_Look up_.

My eyes do as they are told, looking out into the Meadow that my room overlooks. I frown. What is he talking about?

But then, I notice it – it is framed, and what's in between the borders fades into the scene behind it. The legs of the easel are buried in flowers. But what is so sad about this gift? I stare at the painting for a moment, confused, but I don't stand there for long. Still holding the note and the dandelions, I fly downstairs and out the back door. I'm gazing at the painting, situated cleverly in the Meadow so I can see it when I look out my bedroom window.

Why this, Riegan?

It is not my father's painting, I know. I can tell from the style – Father's paintings look different. It must be from one of the Hawthorne's. Glancing at the bottom corner, I can see a little squiggle which I will presume is an "R. Hawthorne". His signature. I frown. It's a beautiful painting, don't get me wrong. I find myself just looking at it for a few moments, but I'm still confused.

It's made to look like the Meadow. Daisies, dandelions – but Riegan has added some primroses... but the dandelions and the evening primroses are not the little blots of color that the daisies are. They're detailed and realistic. I move around the easel in curiosity, and I find another piece of paper tucked in the frame. I pull it out and read:

_No, I'm not seriously artistically talented. Your dad did help me, but the idea was mine, I promise._

_The reason you've been given a painting is because the dandelions and the primroses are **still** all of __that – bright yellow that means rebirth, a promise that life can go on, no matter how bad things are, and that things can be good again._

_And so, I present to you, Miss Tara Mellark, flowers that will never wither. They are beautiful, innocent, and, maybe most importantly, deathless._

_Happy birthday._

...

Before my birthday dinner, I am wearing Elli's gift: a white dress with some stars on it. I do add my own touch, of course – a yellow ribbon around my waist.

Father's cake is easily my favorite out of anything he's ever baked, for me, or for any other reason. We seem to be keeping up with the floral - I guess, since that's how the several layers are decorated. Even the silver candles are chosen to fit in the garden that is my cake.

I sit beside him as he works. "It looks so pretty, Daddy," I say. "Daddy" slips out.

Father turns to me in surprise, but he's smiling. He has frosting all over his arms, apron, and face. He smiles and takes some frosting from the spatula with his middle and index finger. "I've seen prettier." Then he smears it on my nose and winks. "Like my little dandelion here."

I smile, taking the frosting from my nose and licking it off my fingers. Mother comes along and kisses his cheek where the frosting is. She grins at me and licks it off her lips. She pulls me away. "Come, Tara. Let's leave the artist to his work." Father laughs, but he doesn't protest when we leave the kitchen.

Haymitch, to my surprise, has even come up with a pretty little bouquet. And, in discretion, he tells me he'll pick up the "sword" (air quote usage) and duel with me once in a while. When I grin in response, he can tell that I most definitely will enjoy that. As for Greasy Sae – well, I stomach her "creative" concoctions only because she's an old friend of Mother's, and so she's an old friend of mine.

I have already thanked the Hawthornes all together, but no more than I have thanked everybody else. So, when Riegan and I are standing outside the house, waiting for my guests, I take the opportunity. "I never really got to thank you, by the way."

"I saw it hanging in your room." He smiles, and of course, I smile back. I'm thinking that this was a gradual development – how easily I get along with him – but maybe I was just being blind and didn't recognize it when it started. Whatever "it" is. He says with a tinge of amusement, "That was thanks enough for me."

"It's my favorite gift," I say shyly.

"Really?" He looks pleasantly surprised.

I grin. "Well, maybe not what it _is_. I think I might more appreciate my father's pretty and delicious cake or this -" I do a little twirl in my dress, and he laughs.

He says sincerely, "You look very nice in that, by the way. Elli's?"

"Thanks, and yes. But anyway, I don't think it's my favorite gift for what it _is_, but rather... what it represents." I smirk and elbow him. "But you didn't get me crying yet. Sorry."

Riegan shakes his head and gives me one of his boy giggles. I barely stifle my own. "Just you wait. We'll come back next year and I'll come up with another idea. It will be tear inducing."

I freeze. _We'll come back next year_. Through the month, through all the times Matz and I played with Riegan, all the instances when I have wished for this day to come, I forgot what my birthday meant. The Hawthornes were leaving.

He catches my expression. "You forgot?"

"I forgot," I say, crestfallen.

Riegan hugs me – an alien feeling. He's never hugged me, in the month we've known each other. Unspoken rules, I suppose. "Hey, come on. At least you know I'll be coming back each year, right?"

I pause, wondering if that _is _okay, when Elli arrives. She squeals and runs toward me. "Oh, Tara, happy birthday! You look _beautiful _in it! "

Forgetting much too quickly about the Hawthornes, I return the hug that she offers me, talking about how gorgeous the dress is... and my mind wanders off again.

The dinner is fun and it is happy, but every time I see Gale or Lira talking to my parents, I keep getting reminded that this time tomorrow, they will all be across the country. Even the sight of Gale or Lira – who I have grown to like very much – makes me disappointed and dampens my mood.

Elli surprises me by noticing. "They'll be back next year, Tara!" she says quietly and encouragingly.

I almost pout. "A whole year!"

Elli smiles sadly and gives me a small hug. "Come on! It's your _birthday_; be happy!"

And because that is logical enough, I try to be happy. The Hawthornes and Haymitch are last to leave. Haymitch, as part of his birthday present, is not _completely _drunk. Also, he tries not to stay drunk when Matz and me are around, but he's stayed especially sober for my birthday.

After almost everyone's left, Riegan and I are swinging together in the backyard.

I'm giggling. "Somebody doesn't know how to swing!" I taunt, as he pumps his legs hopelessly. His timing's all wrong.

"I haven't been on a swing since I was Matz' age!" he tells me helplessly, dragging the soles of his feet on the grass. He tries pushing off again.

"Does widdle Wiegan want a push?" I tease.

He grins. "Bet you can't."

I hold my skirt so it doesn't fly up and leap off the swing. "You're just baiting me because you're a pathetic swinger!"

Riegan gives me an exasperated look, crossing his arms. "Oh, just push me, birthday girl."

I laugh again and go behind him, pushing on his back. "You pull your legs out when you're going forward, then you tuck them in when you swing backward," I instruct. I can't help but smile. I've never had to tell anyone how to _swing _before.

It's almost dark. The sky's still a deep orange – my father's favorite color – so it's bright enough for me to still see Riegan's face. I return back to my own swing, and we continue silently like this for a few more minutes. Soon, it'll be dark, and the Hawthornes will go back to Hazelle's. When I wake up, they will be on a train to District Two.

I purse my lips and grab hold of the pole beside me, stopping my swing. Riegan stares at me, just using his toe to stop. "What's wrong, Tara?"

I'm silent for a moment, scared that I might do something stupid, like cry. After more quietness, I burst out, "I'm going to miss you guys!" I turn to Riegan, and into his eyes. His own bright brown eyes have no trace of his father's – and my mother's – stormy gray eyes. _Their _eyes can be cold. Calculating. Merciless. But I've seen it sometimes in Gale, and almost always in my mother... I've seen warmth and love in them. That's all that Gale passed on into his son, really, aside from build...

Riegan smiles. "Ah, Miss Mellark... it'll be a few weeks, maybe, but then, after, you won't even remember me."

Indignant, I say, "Of course I will! I'll be waking up to your painting every morning."

"There's that." He gets up, so I do, too. We head back to the house together. Just before the orange above us fades into a deep color between purple and black, he puts his arm around my shoulder. I smile up at him and reach up to do the same. He murmurs, "We'll write to each other, right?"

"Yep." I grin. "We will."

"Promise." He pokes me. "I got Matz to promise he would write already."

"I promise I'll write to you until you come back." I hold out my pinkie. He bursts out laughing, but he links it with mine anyway. So now I grin and skip inside. He barely keeps up with my skipping. I_will _miss that. Elli and Matz and all my other friends are _different_. We can laugh at each other and we get what the funny part of it is. Shared sense of humor, I guess.

Gale and Lira spend a few more minutes talking with Mother and Father. And then, before I know it, they have to leave. I gush my thanks until they are out the door... I wave until they are out of sight... and when they are, Mother sees my saddened expression. She smiles at me. "Come on, Tara. Time for bed. I still have my gift for you."

"Wait, Mother -" I say breathlessly. "Can you wake me up in the morning? Before they leave?"

"I planned to do that anyway." She kisses my forehead. "They'll be back before you know it."

I smile sadly up at her and I allow her to take my hand, pulling me up to my room. She tucks me into bed and sits next to me, giving me a whole concert of lullabies. From ones I know to a whole new set of them. However, she senses when I am just about to doze off... my eyes detach from hers, and I look into Riegan's painting. I smile slightly as Mother shifts over into another song. There are only a few things I process as she sings...

Her voice... the lyrics, which sing of hope... and then, as I stare into the painting across from my bed, I lose myself into the warm embrace of another world, made of nothing but flowers and the voices of angels.

* * *

Did anybody else catch my Mockingjay reference in there? I just loved the line when Katniss says, "Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry."

Also, yes, I just skipped a month. There's nothing interesting that really happens in that month. Don't worry.

One last thing – the whole "flowers that will never wither" thing... that's based on something that I did when I was still a little girl. I don't remember how I came across it, but I had a fake, yellow rose which I gave to my parents for some occasion. I think their anniversary. They gave me a card of thanks, saying that they were happy to have a rose that will never wither. I would have done the same thing, but I don't like fake ;D

Expect the next chapter tomorrow morning as always.

REVIEW PLEAAAASE?

Now, if you'll excuse me - I have to get back to reading City of Ashes. Haven't read the Mortal Instruments books? I suggest you do.


	6. Goodbyes

Thanks so much to everybody who's reviewed! You're all so nice, and you have no idea how happy I am that you're enjoying this. I'm enjoying myself too, and I'm surprised, actually. I never expected the story to grow quite like this. It originally started as just the one-shot, but then I grew more curious and everybody seemed to like it, so...!

**Mia **- Wow, thank you :D Well I can't imagine writing a book out of fanfiction, but I do like writing. :)  
**Ceylon **- Well, yes. I guess the technology would be more advanced than I'm writing it out to be. Probably. Yeah. Webcam. xD

Nope: still not Suzanne Collins, even if the ever so kind **kkfanfic **claims my writing is like hers :) It's the first-person, present-tense. The Hunger Games is the only thing I draw from when it comes to that, so my writing should sound vaguely alike.

* * *

It's still dark when I my eyes open again.

I stuff my face in my pillow, trying to force sleep again, but I keep thinking about the Hawthornes, so my body just completely rejects it. I sigh and relent. If sleep doesn't want to take me, then I shouldn't mind. I stand up beside my bed, at a loss of what to do. I look out the window long enough to see that the sun has _just _begun to rise. The light cleverly places itself in my room so that it shines on the painting.

I smile and gaze at it for a moment before decided to go downstairs, where Father and Mother are sitting with Gale. I pause, and decide to eavesdrop – no, that hasn't changed.

"What do you think of it?" asks Father. He's drinking hot chocolate instead of coffee.

From my position I can see that Gale looks confused, but Mother knows what Father is talking about. "Tara and Riegan?" I am instantly interested in what this is supposed to be.

Father smiles. "Yes..."

Gale – I think – is teasing darkly. "He'll fall in love with her and so will she, but she won't know it, and then she is pulled away from him, given to someone else who has loved her all that time as well..."

"Ah, Gale..." says Mother wearily.

"I'm just saying." I can only see Gale's face. He is smiling. "And if it _is _the case, I'd like to save my son some of the grief, thanks."

Father cuts in. "I don't know if you've realized, but Tara is not Katniss. The same, in lots of ways, but she's her own self, too. Funny, I guess, how they're a lot like you two... but..."

"But," agrees Gale with a nod. I'm slow in the morning, so it's only now that I process that they're basically matchmaking me. I clench the stair rail and hold back. I want to listen more. Lucky I never stomp down the stairs like Matz does...

Mother laughs. "Tara knows herself a lot better than I did when I was her age, for one thing. Which is strange, since she doesn't have to."

"And we _did _have to." Gale leans back on his chair, pushing the weight onto the back legs.

We. I can't hold back a scowl. Mother nods, I think. Father asks, after a short silence, "But _do _you think they'll ever..."

"Too soon to tell," Gale guesses. "They're both quite young. And they've just known each other for a month, and they'll only know each other for a month at a time."

"No," Mother interrupts. "They won't. Tara and Matz have promised to keep in touch."

Gale shrugs. "It's never the same as being there all the time."

"But that's how you know," says Father, "if they care for one another."

I can't take it anymore, so I tiptoe to the top of the stairs, and make as much noise as I can going down. I do my best to make sure that people can't tell I've been listening in on them. I sleepily make my way into the kitchen.

"Why are you up so early?" asks Mother in surprise. "I was just going to wake you."

"I couldn't sleep," I mumble sleepily. I remove the little eye boogers at the corner of my eye, and wipe at the moistness beneath my lashes that results from it.

Gale gives me a stiff, but not unkind, smile. Father reaches over and taps the chair next to him. I clamber onto it, yawning and then sighing. "What time do you have to leave?" I ask Gale.

"In about an hour. Lira and Riegan haven't woken up yet, so I thought I'd spend some time with my old friends." Gale smiles. I wonder if Father has ever counted for a friend. Well, I suppose he has, now. He's taken good care of Mother. I'm sure that counts. "Would you like to come and wake them up with me?"

I grin at the idea of being able to wake up Riegan. Perhaps some revenge. "Definitely."

"We'll be there soon," says Mother. "We'll just have to give Matz a few more minutes of sleep."

So, I wash up and change. Then, I set off with Gale into town. I realize that it's the first time it's just been me and him. This person who thinks that I'm just the younger version of Mother. I know he thinks that, and I don't like it.

"You look a lot like her when she was your age," he tells me, like he was reading my mind. "Except the eyes, of course. You have Peeta's eyes."

"And she was skinnier," I guess. "Because of what things were like when you guys were my age."

Gale nods, and looks at me inquisitively. "But you're not much like her, are you?"

That's not exactly what I want. "I'm lots like her. Just not what you think."

Whoops. Wrong thing to say. "You heard us talking, didn't you?" Gale is smiling, so he's not mad. I find often that he's not mad when I expect him to be... maybe I've been confusing him with Mother as well. Mother would have been embarrassed, and so she would have scolded me for listening. Gale obviously won't. Or is he just being polite?

Oh, so I _don't _know this man as well as I think I do.

"Yes," I say, abashed. "And just so you know, I don't -"

"I know." Gale nods and shrugs, but I can hear his unspoken words: _Not yet, you don't_. I wonder if he's right. I wonder if I will break Riegan's heart. I wonder how alike Mother and I really are. I don't want it to be like that. Before I can even muse some more about these issues, we have arrived at Hazelle's.

I look up at him. "Where's..."

He points upstairs. "Third room on the left."

Not too eagerly, I hope, I hurry upstairs and to the room that Gale pointed out. I open it slowly, to check that it is Riegan's room. I smile. He drools _and _he snores. I giggle quietly to myself and lean close to his ear, but not before surveying his looks.

In sleep, he doesn't look nearly as composed as he is when he's awake. He sleeps with his mouth wide open, saliva grossly showing. His hair is much more disheveled, too.

Did he do this when he woke _me _up? Stare at me like this... because it's strange. When we're awake and conscious of the other, in comparison to the peaceful slumber...

I clear my throat as silently as possible and then scream as highly pitched as I can into his ear. He yells and sits up, bumping my head in the process. It hurts, but I'm laughing too much to care. He wipes the drool off his chin as I collapse onto the floor, myself wiping tears of laughter.

"My dad let you up?" he demands incredulously.

I stifle my giggles. "No -" I choke out, "Matz let me in and I explained to your parents my mission -"

"Seriously!" he says, exasperated. But he's smiling. Of course he's smiling.

I grin. "Your dad offered I wake you up. Offer I couldn't refuse, of course – after what you did to me." I saunter back to the door and say, "You drool too much. And you have _terrrrrible _morning breath, Mr. Hawthorne."

I can only catch his pink cheeks and parted lips before I go back downstairs, where I sit on Hazelle's couch. Then, I'm thinking about what Gale and Mother and Father said.

I'd be lying to you if I said it hadn't crossed my mind about Riegan and... well, Riegan. But I don't know how I'm supposed to be feeling about … Riegan. He's just Riegan. Silly, smug, and … just Riegan. My thoughts are swirling in confusion at this point. There's always time to think about this, I try to remind myself... he's leaving... he'll be gone...

But no, of course that doesn't make me feel better.

Riegan's one of the best friends I've had in... ever. We're not drawn to each other because of a similar need of survival, but maybe because everyone who knew our parents... Riegan and I aren't who they expect us to be. What are we, really? Children of warriors, and that's all they really know.

It's not quite _us_ they know, though...

I love listening to Mother's songs, not to her twang of her bow as it releases an arrow, aimed straight at the eye of an animal at her mercy. To me, Father's arms are made for frosting beautiful cakes and cradling me when I'm frightened, not wrestling someone to death. Is that what its like for Riegan? To be the son of the once best friend of Katniss Everdeen, the girl who created an inferno from the sparking rebellion in Panem? The son of a man who could be so feared in the time of that rebellion?

Riegan comes down now, interrupting my thoughts. He flops onto the couch next to me. "So, Miss Mellark, you couldn't sleep?" He's teasing me, and he proves it with the next few words: "Did you already miss me?"

"Don't make me _not _miss you," I say to him irritably. "I woke up early for you."

He smiles and gives me a one arm hug. "And I appreciate it."

We walk together to the train station later, after some time. It was so long since I'd last been on a train. I look at it with some contempt. This is the machine that's going to take them away!

… what ridiculous thoughts I'm having today.

Matz is clinging to Riegan's arm. Mother told me that it took everything in her to stop him from packing. By the way he's holding Riegan, you'd think he has plans to stow away on the train, still. I watch Father hug Lira, then Riegan, then Gale. When I see Mother hug Lira, I see fondness. Lira was a good friend to her this month, I know. She hugs Riegan, and whispers something in his ear that makes him look at me with a nervous, embarrassed grin. I hold back the temptation to ask what she said.

But then she moves on to Gale, and they hug each other, and I can't help but wonder about the other times they did that. Mother would look even more tired back then than she already does, strangely enough. She would be younger. Her hair might have been longer. She wouldn't have had a wedding ring on her hand. When they let go of each other, Gale gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek, and Mother smiles, a little flustered. "It's been nice seeing you again, Gale."

I calm my over protective nerves by reminding myself that there's none of the affection I hear in her voice when she calls for Father.

He smiles back almost wistfully. "It's the same for me... Catnip."

I take this chance to hug him. When I pull away I tell him with a small smile, "I'm not really like her, just to remind you."

Gale laughs. "A little bit, you are."

Then I embrace Lira, who whispers in my ear, and I realize this is probably like what Mother told Riegan. "Don't break his heart, hon," she says quietly. My eyes widen and my jaw drops slightly. She winks at me when she pulls away. I can't even force myself to whisper that I would never. My throat is still dry when I turn to Riegan, who smiles, probably knowing exactly what his mom told me.

He wrenches his arm from Matz' grip, giving him an apologetic smile, and gives me a hug. I hug him back, burying my face in his shoulder. "Remember," he says to me before pulling away, "you pinkie promised."

I grin. "I'd like to remind you the same thing... and anyway, you're more at risk than I -"

"Right." Riegan rolls his eyes. "I hope you appreciate waking up to my painting every morning, Miss Tara."

I smile and say, "I will." Riegan grins down at Matz, and takes his arm, trying to hand it to me.

"No!" he howls. "I'm coming _with you_!"

"Matzo..." says Mother gently.

Father adds patiently, reaching out to him, "C'mon, Matz..."

Matz just moves out of his reach and cries, "No! I'm going with Riegan! I don't want him to go!"

Riegan smiles and squats down to his level. His voice is filled with patience. "Ah, Matzo. I'll be back before you know it, buddy. And you know you couldn't leave your mother and father and Tara." Then, he whispers theatrically, "And remember, you promised me you'd win against Tara in the Hunger Game while I'm gone."

My little brother crosses his arms. "But you'll be _gone_!"

"And I'll be back eventually," he says calmly, looking right into Matz' eyes, which soften slightly.

I'm so startled, for some reason.

I realize that this was just the second instance he's shown some sign of being "14, and already like a man" - not just looking like one. The first one was his birthday gift to me. Now, he's calming down _my brother_! He's calming down Matzo, the un-calm-able. I stare in amazement as Matz sighs, stepping back beside me. I put my arm around him, squeezing. Matz is disgruntled, but he looks at me and forces a sad smile.

And then, waving and calling out goodbyes, they're on the train to District Two.

...

Later, after dinner, Father is dipping bread into hot chocolate while Mother is consoling Matz, who is now regretting letting go of Riegan. I scramble up on the chair beside him and get my own mug of hot chocolate. We sit in silence for a while, when I decide to ask... "Were you ever... jealous while Gale was here, Father?"

Father looks at me curiously. "No... not really. Except -" His voice falters.

"Except?" I frown.

"Except when he called her Catnip," he admits slowly.

"But every other time, you were okay?" This is a strange idea to me, for some reason. That Father wasn't really jealous.

Father nods. "Yes. I think so."

"Why _you think so_?" I ask, resting my elbows on the table, and my chin on my palms. He laughs at my curiosity.

"Because I was never worried that Katniss would turn from me and go to him," he says, and I decide he's more musing to himself than explaining to me, because he's using Mother's name instead of saying "your mother".

"Then, what were you worired about?"

Father leans back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. "I was jealous about what they had together. Like I can never call her Catnip."

"What they -" I almost splutter. "But... they were drawn together because they needed to survive..." I thought the Games gave that to Father and Mother, too.

"Don't worry about it, dandelion," he says with a smile, relaxing and leaning forward again. "I'm happy he was here."

He sees my confused expression. I open my mouth to ask a question, but I'm not really sure what the question is.

"Because no matter how happy she is with me, in District Twelve, with you two, she can never be the same kind of happy, because Gale can give her that sense of the past. The good part of it. He gave her something when we were all younger, and I can never give it to her. He can. So I'm thankful."

With that, we enter back into our world of silence, until I burst out: "You shouldn't be talking about Riegan and me like you were."

Father's eyes widen. "You heard us?"

"Yes," I say bitterly, "and I don't ever want... I don't – I can't -"

"Shh. Dandelion, I'm sorry," he says sincerely. "We … we probably shouldn't have. I didn't realize that you would ..."

I sigh and slump down in my seat. "I'm not saying I mind the idea -" I pause and add hastily, "I'm not saying that I _don't_, either, but it just bothered me that you all just expected it. That it would be the same for me as it was for Mother. Why do you, by the way?"

He smiles a little. "When you two first met, it was the same as it was when Gale and Katniss did."

I tilt my head to the side. "Hm?"

"Gale is very good at snares. Mother saw his and was about to reach out and see what his snare had caught. Then he appeared and said that she shouldn't touch it; stealing was punishable by the law. And then..." His brow furrows, trying to remember the story. I'm sure Mother only told him once. It's not a story she'd likely repeat to her husband. "And then she said that she wasn't going to steal it. She just wanted to look; her snares never worked. She was holding a squirrel, then, so Gale asked where she got it from. She explained that she shot it with her bow, and Gale asks to see it... and then she reminds him that stealing is punishable by the law."

I stare at him in shock. "What?" It's not _exactly _the same, but still much too the same.

He laughs. "That's the story, Tara. They recognized it when you were out in the garden. So similar."

"Ugh. Well. I regret saying the things I said, then." I cross my arms and huff.

And then, he looks at me a little suspiciously, and there's a trace of his fatherly instincts: "You haven't really told me if you did or didn't like him, Tara, and I can't help but want to make sure..."

"No!" I gasp, horrified. "No, I _don't_!"

Father bursts out into another laugh. "I know you don't." And again, there are the unspoken words that I'm beginning to despise already: _Not yet, you don't_.

* * *

Review review review :)

And, as always, you will wake up tomorrow, not to a mischievous 13 year old girl with dark hair and blue eyes screaming in your ear, but to a new chapter.

(At least, I hope you won't wake up tomorrow to a mischievous 13 year old girl with dark hair and blue eyes screaming in your ear, because that would be quite strange.)


	7. District Four

Hey, everyone. No, I'm not time jumping. At least, not too much. It _would _be fun to see Tara and Riegan when they're sixteen, yes? Well, in between thirteen and sixteen, there's enough years to make up some stories. So, here it is.

Also, just to let all of you know - I don't _usually _start my sentences with conjunctions. :D I know it's wrong, but I let myself break the rules sometimes.

**Mia** - Yes, I have been updating every day, and I plan to continue like this... but I'll let you know after I get my taste of high school ;) School has never gotten in the way of my writing, but it might dampen my inspiration. I don't know. We'll see, I guess.  
**luv4jake** - I like to think there's a lot of Peeta in her! :P Albeit we have seen more of Katniss, but... whatever. Here's some today for you.

Thanks for the tips, **Hurbis**! :)

Suzanne Collins has cats. I don't like cats. In fact, I have a dog next to me right now - so I'm not Suzanne Collins!

* * *

Horrible as it sounds, the days go by with not a trace of Riegan in my mind, except at certain times. Those certain times are the first moments I sit up in bed to see his painting, and as I go back to sleep. His primroses and dandelions are the first and last things that I see, which is somehow all right with me.

Riegan's first email comes about a week after he leaves. He tells me everything, even "introducing" me to his friends. His email's very long, and was obviously written over a span of a few days. They include funny things people say, weird people he comes across, and the small adventures he has. Those last ones always mention how he wishes that I was there.

_The experience would have been much funnier and better if you were there_, he writes. He always writes something like that after he tells me one of the stories.

I try to keep enthusiastic when I write back to him, but it's not the same. I can't hear his laugh or see his smirks and his smiles. Sure, there's a trace of his voice in the words, but it's not the same. I can't help but hear Father talking to Gale and Mother whenever I think that._ But that's how you know if they care for one another_.

Just when the spaces between the letters grow larger, Mother and Father tell Matz and me that we're going to be visiting Grandmother Everdeen, to escape the cold weather. Four is always warmer this time of year than Twelve. Later, when it's just Matz and me, we both know that the two of us want to pass by District Two on the way there, or on the way home, but for some reason, the request seems like a strange idea to fulfill... at least to me.

"You would like to meet all his friends, too, wouldn't you?" Matz asks me, sitting with me in the Meadow as I twirl a dandelion between my fingers.

I nod. "I would." I'm going through his emails in my mind, remembering something he wrote to me...

_Do you ever get sick of hearing "you look so much like your mother!"? It's funny, since I look lots more like Mom than I do Dad, and yet everybody seems to think I look more like him. Do you think it's because they just **want **us to be like them? You to be like your mother, me to be like my dad?_

I remember that I thought, as I read that... you have no idea, Riegan.

Matz shakes me out of my reverie.

"So why aren't we asking Mother and Father if we can pass by Two? Four's closer to it than Twelve is, anyway. It's not like it's impossible." Matz frowns at me, because I'm shaking my head with a distant look in my eyes. "Don't you miss Riegan, Tara? Why don't you want to go to Four?"

"Matz!" I drop my flower and look up at him. "Of course I miss Riegan. Of course I want to visit him."

He gives me a disdainful look. "Doesn't seem like it."

Matz recently turned eight, but he's still my little brother, complete with everything that comes with being a little brother. I think he's trying hard to be like Riegan, though, because I have definitely seen a change in him. I sigh. "Just because we're going Four doesn't mean we can just _go _to Two, Matzo."

"Why _not_?" he cries. "You don't miss him at all." He stands up and stalks away before I can even argue.

Well, a few weeks later, we head off to Four with no plans of going to Two, anyway. (Matz made good friends with the folks at the station because of how fascinated he was.)

We head straight to the hospital while our stuff are being sent to Grandmother Everdeen's house. She's getting old, but she still works like she did when Mother was my age. It used to confuse me why she didn't just move in with us – she'd be more relaxed that way... but now I know she wouldn't be more relaxed that way.

Mother is at the reception desk, asking for Grandmother, when Matz cries, "Grandmother!"

I look around to see her. She was once a beauty, they tell me. She still is, if I look carefully. For an aged woman, she still is a beauty... _but_, I think with a flash of hatred, _the Hunger Games made her wither._

She smiles at the sight of Matz. "Well, well... !" Her arms open as Matz runs toward her. She holds Matz at shoulder's length, as if sizing him up. He was so little when she last saw him, but Matz knows her because of the gifts she sends us. Mostly cookies, even though Father makes the best that we know. Still: anyone who gives my little brother cookies has been granted his love.

Grandmother gives Matz a lollipop, and then she hugs Mother, murmuring something to her that I can't hear. Then, Father, who I'm hiding behind. She smiles at him. "Taking good care of our Katniss?" Mother tells me that she was never usually this happy. Judging from what I know about Grandmother, it helps that she's saving people's lives here.

Father nods and smiles. "As expected, Mrs. Everdeen." He sounds like a schoolboy, worried of pleasing his girlfriend's parents.

Then, she looks to me. "What happened to little Tara?" She smiles wistfully, and I know she wishes she had seen me grow up. But she can't, and I finally understand why.

I throw my arms around her. "I'm still quite little, Grandmother."

"Not as little as I wish you would stay." She ruffles my hair, which I ruefully fix. "Ah! Already at that stage where you care for the hair. Oh, no. Not breaking any hearts, I hope?"

I catch my father's amused glance and shake my head much too hastily. "I don't think so."

Grandmother may have been fairly enthusiastic at the hospital, but when we're at her house, it's different. She and I are in her study, both quiet. Matz, I find, is the only person in my family who I can't sit silently in a room with. Grandmother, however, is best at it. I'm typing out an email to Riegan, while Grandmother sits, just thinking.

"Who are you writing to, Tara?" she asks me, breaking the silence.

My fingers stop. "Riegan Hawthorne."

"Riegan Hawthorne?" she repeats, raising a brow.

"Yes, they came to visit..." I turn around to her, surprised that she doesn't know. "Did Mother not tell you that they did?"

"She did." Right. Gale Hawthorne visiting Katniss Everdeen-Mellark is worth news, especially after all this time. "I just wasn't sure how close you were."

I say quickly, "Not _that _close. But he's nice."

What I like about Grandmother is that she doesn't waste her breath. Sure enough, she just nods slowly and goes back into her own little world. She can do that very well. Still, I find myself typing with more of a bad mood. I'm sure, wherever Grandmother is in that "own little world", she is remembering Mother and Gale, and how "alike we must be". I'm scowling, rereading:

_Do you think it's because they just **want **us to be like them? You to be like your mother, me to be like my dad?_

I sigh to myself. You have no idea, Riegan.

On the second day of our stay in District Four, we go to see Annie Cresta-Odair and her son, "Finn" Odair, who's sixteen-almost-seventeen. I've seen the pictures, during the span of time that I did not really know them. The Odairs are easily among the best-looking family I know. They have the prettiest eyes. I remember the last time I was in Four, when I first met Finn, he was about... eleven, so I was about eight. Even then, I thought he was the most handsome boy I knew – I told this to Mother shamelessly that time, and she told me that Finn got his good looks from his father. I look at Finnick Odair's photos in "the book" and I can tell.

"Hey, Tara," Finn greets me as our parents hug and say how long its been. Father tells me he's not as … well, he's not exactly the same as Finnick, who was... well, "seductive". Finn, I found, was a bit quieter. But I don't know. It's been a while.

I give him a little wave and say timidly, "Hi." Finn knows that I used to (used to?) think he was the prettiest boy I knew, or know. Not that it means anything. I like pretty things; it doesn't necessarily mean I like him.

Matz, who was three when we first met Finn, so he doesn't know him, really. My brother looks up at Finn blankly. The older boy clears his throat. "Erm. Nice to 'meet' you, Matzo."

"It's just Matz," he corrects mildly. Matz doesn't look totally impressed. I suppress a smile; anybody who's the least bit timid doesn't have the total adoration of my brother. I know that's why Matz worships Riegan, who's immature in his own little way.

"You know how to swim, Matz?" Finn asks. I can't help but compare Finn's conversation skills with Riegan, who jumps right into everything. Finn is shy. I might get along with him.

Matz looks faintly interested. "No... can you teach me?"

Finn nods. He looks as eager as Matz is interested. "Sure. Mother -"

Annie Odair, Mother told me, was once referred to as "mental". Even though I've read and seen "the book", I still can't imagine that serene woman to be quite... "mental". She's a lot like Grandmother, at least to me. She has her own little world, and she can escape to it better than others can. That's all, really. What I'm sure hasn't changed is her loveliness. "Yeah?"

"Can Matz and Tara and I go down to the water?" he asks. "Matz wants to learn how to swim."

"To swim!" repeats Mother. Matz gasps and sees that Mother is rapidly considering it in her mind if she wants little Matzo to learn how to swim. It's not something we do often. In my mind, swimming ranks somewhere with "hunting". We don't need to learn how to do it, so we don't. It's different with Matz, though – he's reckless. He doesn't understand the concept of "drowning".

"Yes, Mother! You can't stop me, I _need _to learn how to swim!"

I cover my mouth. The giggles are threatening to come out. Once you bar Matz from something, all the more he wants it. Finn glances at me and looks confused. Again, I think of Riegan, who definitely would have burst out laughing. He would have known the funny part about it. But I just shake my head at Finn, and he gives me an unsure smile. All right. I guess that's good enough.

I add, to back up my brother, "I did think we were going to swim in the fishing district."

Father laughs. "I think you're outnumbered, Katniss."

"I wasn't going to stop you," she says, and I can tell it's a half-lie. I smirk. "Go on, I guess... and Finn, you will take care of them, right?"

"Of course, Mrs. Mellark," Finn says easily. "And if I can't, I'm sure Tara can."

I look at him in surprise, but I nod slowly. "Mhm." I guess I'm just surprised of his judgment of me. We don't even really know each other.

So, we head off to get some swimming clothes and then to the water. I remember Annie telling me that people from Four weren't just allowed to go swimming for fun. If they were swimming, it was for work. I sit on the sand while Finn ventures out into the water with Matz, instructing him with the patience that I only see rarely in Riegan.

When he asked me what my favorite district was aside from Twelve, it was Four. The reason is the water. Once, when Mother and Father were teasing one another, she told me that Father had a weakness for beauty. Father had replied, "Like I told you before, Katniss, having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as weakness."

I may not quite have Father's eye for beauty. I'm not good at painting, and I think that painting is really just _seeing _things and being able to reproduce it. I can't see as well as he can. Although I do appreciate it just as much as he does, and that's why Four is my favorite district. Well, yes, it's one of the few I've ever visited, but out of that few, it's the prettiest.

"Aren't you coming, Tara?" Matz calls out to me.

I smile and get up, going into the water slowly. The sea is different from the lake. I'm not used to the waves, or the saltwater. It's still swimming, though, so I make my way out to Matz and Finn.

"Your brother's a natural," Finn tells me in his nonchalant tone. "He's a fast learner."

"_Really_?" I say in surprise. Matz sticks his tongue out at me, knowing that I'm poking fun at his restlessness.

"Really," says Finn, with a smile. That smile reminds me of Finnick's picture in the book. He's smirking almost just like him. I wonder if that ever hurts Annie. I know that I don't look like Prim, because of my hair, and Matz doesn't look like her, because he's a boy. Mother doesn't have to feel that kind of pain that Annie might feel from the resemblance her son has to her dead husband. Or is it a pain?

Too many thoughts! I dive down, wetting my hair and my face, and then rise up again. Need to stop thinking, need to stop thinking...

Finn looks to me now, as Matz doggy paddles a fair distance away. "So, is it just me you've met, who's a kid of..."

His sentence trails off, but I know what he means. "Kids of the victors?" I raise a brow.

He nods. "Yeah." So he, unlike Riegan, has a respect for the fact that Matz doesn't – and still shouldn't – know about the Games.

I give him a nod right back. "I think so. You?"

"I met Johanna Mason's daughter," he replies with a small smile. "You know Johanna?"

I laugh and nod. "Yes. Mother likes her, so yes. But I've never met her... at least, I can never remember meeting her. Or her daughter. What are they like?"

"Johanna? Well, Johanna's... Johanna's scary. Rysnna's the exact opposite. Mother thinks that Johanna might be disappointed Rysnna didn't turn out to be quiet the – er – quite as wild as she was herself," says Finn with a smile. "She's adopted."

"Ris-na?" I ask. Strange name.

Finn nods. "Yes. She probably just wanted a protegee of sorts. Johanna's not married."

I grin, thinking of my own parents' stories about the frightening Johanna Mason. "I can imagine." I stroke backwards. "Who else have you met?"

"Well, Cecelia – she was from District 8, not sure which year she was from – had three kids. I've met her oldest son's kids," says Finn, looking up to the right. That's his thinking face.

I smile. "That doesn't count. Those are grandchildren of victors. And you haven't met Cecelia, so." Well, she's dead.

He laughs. "Well, that's all I know, or have met. Unless you want to count Riegan."

"You've met Riegan?" Why does this surprise me?

"Yes... your mother and father weren't Gale's only acquaintances, you know," he says, giving me a sidelong glance.

I shrug, then say, "I think he should count."

"In that case, I've met you, Matz, Rysnna, and Riegan."

Hearing all the names together makes me a bit irritated. I'm thinking grimly: _Gosh. We should form a club. Children of Warriors_. My scowl morphs into a small smile, thinking of a slogan for the imaginary club. _We are not the killing machines our parents were_.

That would be fun.

"What is it?" asks Finn, seeing my face.

Again with my comparisons: I would have told Riegan immediately about the idea, and he would have burst out laughing. Is _Finn _supposed to be my "Peeta"? The idea disgusts me, mean as that sounds. I remember that I'm _not _Mother, so I say, "I was just thinking how … because Riegan and I were talking once, about how everyone thinks we're going to be just like our parents." _I'm not Mother_.

He gives me a genuine grin. "Yes, I think I know what you're talking about, in your case. Mother was talking with your grandmother, and she said that Riegan and you were probably going to be like Gale and Katniss." He's just stating facts, so I don't mind. I do mind, however, that Grandmother was kind of lying to me yesterday. Well, no, she said she wasn't sure how close we were... but still.

I groan. "Yes!" Then, changing my tone to a bit joking, so he knows I'm not serious, "And I was thinking that we should have our own little club. So we can 'protest'."

Finn actually laughs a little, and I'm pleased. "Well, I don't have much to live up to, I guess. Not as much as you do." I frown, and realize he's thinking of his mother. But I have someone else in mind.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, swimming towards him. "You do have a father, even if he is..." My sentence trails off, thinking it's tactless to talk about a dead father. I continue: "You look almost exactly like him."

He laughs again, only this time it's humorlessly. "Good point. That'sall I have to live up to." He mutters something, and I think it's, "... 'almost exactly' ..."

I'm confused, and he sees it.

Finn looks a bit exasperatedly at me, like an adult talking impatiently to a child. "Tara, my father was -" He flexes his fairly nonexistent muscles, and I realize what he's talking about. "And I'm, well, not. I can't use the trident like he can. Believe me, I've tried I can't look at people and consider how I can kill them. I can't use whatever pretty face I have on people. I'm not... not him. Whoever he was."

I feel a rush of empathy for him and smile. All right; I officially have Finn Odair listed as a friend in my book.

"I know _exactly _how you feel."

* * *

Methinks she's getting sick of being treated like she's Katniss reincarnated, oui? For good reason.

Review review reviewww.

Lots of fun in this fic tomorrow.


	8. The Runaway

Goodness, people, I think Tara would appreciate your confidence in that SHE'S NOT KATNISS! ;) Well, at any rate, you're not going to be seeing much more of Finn, so don't worry. In fact... [spoilers]!

;D Read on, my friends, read on.

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

**Mrs. Everdeen's POV**

"Grandmother, I'm going to take a nap, but I don't want to sleep too long. Can you wake me up after, say, an hour?"

I look to Matz' direction – little Peeta, really – and nod. "Of course, Matzo."

He gives me a pleasant smile and runs upstairs. He seems very eager to take a nap, but I think I ought to just let it go... I've never understood little boys, anyway... why should I? I've never had any...

I sit in my armchair, relaxing, if I can.

I miss Katniss, and I wish I could have seen her family grow, but I can't imagine having done that. I look up to the picture of Prim and Katniss on the wall and feel like something's wrenching my heart. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to look straight down at my lap. Doesn't grief ever go _away_? Why does it hurt so much? After so long?

Peeta seems to have been taking care of her.

Of course, he's been taking care of her...

Two days of them visiting has been enough to know that. But are the two days of them enough for _me_? I wish I could ask Katniss to live with me, but I lost her, long ago, with my husband. I can never get her back. Katniss was never one to forgive, and what she's given me has already been enough...

I'm getting drowsy...

Tired.

… but losing Prim as well. My Prim, my beautiful primrose. She had all the best qualities our family offered, and yet, she was the one who was taken. Why is it always the best people?

I yawn.

Sleep takes me.

…

I wake up later and sit up in alarm. I glance at the clock. Oh, thank goodness. It's only been half an hour. I go upstairs to check on Matz, instinctively. I scurry up the stairs and check on the guest room, opening the door and peeking in slowly.

Oh, goodness.

I rub my eyes, as if somehow that's going to prove to me that the bed actually _isn't _empty, that there is actually someone in the room.

My grip on the door knob tightens. "Matz?" I call out shakily.

Oh, _no_.

I keep the door open as I call out into the hallway: "Matzo!"

Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions.

I rush downstairs and out, looking around the street. To my neighbors: "Have you seen Matzo?"

Why are they shaking their heads?

Where is he?

He's just gone to see his parents and sister … he's just gone to the Odairs …

**Tara's POV**

It's been two days in District Four, and I've been enjoying myself, to be honest with you.

Finn's every bit as good a companion as any other I've known. He's just quieter than most, and I like the quiet, sometimes. I mean, I have Matz around. It's not like I need excitement all the time.

I'm in the Odair's sitting room with Finn, playing cards. Annie, Mother, and Father are talking at the window. It's just quiet, peaceful time for a while, until the door opens. I look at Grandmother's frantic expression, and I immediately sit up straighter.

Grandmother and frantic don't quite go together.

"Oh, no," she gasps after surveying the room.

"What's wrong, Mother?" asks Mother, looking up in curiosity.

She closes her eyes tightly and exhales. "Please, _please_ tell me you know where Matz is."

There's a sudden flurry as Mother and Father both stand up. That is not the proper sentence to use on parents. Matz was with Grandmother, supposedly. "What?" cries Mother, eyes wide with panic. Father puts a hand on her shoulder. Mother looks ready to kill.

"Wait, wait, let's not jump to conclusions. What happened, Mrs. Everdeen?" asks Father.

Grandmother frowns. "He told me he was going to nap, and I slept for just half an hour, but I went to go up and check as soon as I got up, and he just … he wasn't there."

"He's been kidnapped!" Mother exclaims. I'm shocked. Mother _never _goes crazy like this. She's always been the one who keeps her head.

"No, no, I don't think so." Grandmother shakes her head. "His suitcase was gone."

Suddenly, I'm thinking of Riegan and how he would have been able to guess better than any of us where Matz went, or how funny this might end up to be. I gasp, dropping my cards, and clasp my hands over my mouth in shock. Finn looks to me. "What? Do you think you know where he is?"

I'm frozen. Mother rushes to me. "What is it, Tara?"

I breathe shakily and I burst out: "RIEGAN!"

"What?" Mother is baffled. She's panicking, so she can't think straight, of course.

"You don't mean -" Father's eyes are wide. "_How _could he have possibly gotten ..." His voice chokes. Father is choking? What? Has the world gone absolutely mad?

"What's going on?" Mother exclaims. Mother never screams. I grab her hands and squeeze them.

"Matz _ran away_," I tell her as steadily as I can. "To see Riegan."

Mother finishes Father's let off sentence: "But how could he have gotten on the train? He's too young! He – how?"

"It's not hard to sneak on the train, 'specially for Matz," I say, rubbing my temple. "I mean, you did give him money, just in case, didn't you? And... and he knows the people on the train. He'll be fine."

Annie speaks up for the first time since Grandmother walked in. "Peeta, Katniss, you might want to call Gale... you can use the phone."

Father nods and begins to make his way out the door. "Yes, I will. Katniss, just – just … Tara, can you try and calm her down?"

Me, calm down Mother? What a ridiculous idea. I sigh and look at Mother, who bursts out, "But why would he just go?"

"Matz worships the ground Riegan walks on, Mother," I say with an uncharacteristically nonchalant shrug. I guess one of us has to be calm. "We were talking, before we left, how we could ask you and Father if we could pass by Two on thte way here, or on the way home... and I didn't realize how much he wanted to see Riegan."

"Oh, why couldn't you just ask?" she asks me. "I might have said yes... oh, and now he's on the train to Two. All by himself. In the winter, too..."

"He'll be fine," says Finn confidently. "He'll be fine, Mrs. Mellark."

Mother collapses onto the armchair and leans her head back tiredly. "Matzo..." Annie sits on the chair beside her, trying to console. She's doing a better job than I am.

Seeing that she's done her unusual fit of insanity, I move to go see what Father is saying. "... yes, we're pretty sure he's going to see him … Tara thinks so, yes … oh, well, then. You will? _Thanks_, Gale, we appreciate it... yeah, yeah, I think we'll be able to follow him there tomorrow... could you call if or when he gets there? Thanks. Yeah. See you soon."

I back out, considering for a moment if I'm wrong, and Matz is just sitting in a closet with his suitcase. And he's fallen asleep.

But then I think of how he clung to Riegan the day they left, and how it wasn't just me who clamored for the letters, checking emails religiously. Matz, however, doesn't have to worry that everyone's going to think that he'll fall in love with Riegan someday, and then one of them will leave and then ... well. Which is why _Matz_ was happy to run away and visit Riegan.

No, he's definitely gone to District Two.

After a few hours, I return to sit in the living room with Finn, playing cards again, ears ready for any sign of a ring. When Finn wins another round of the game we're playing, the phone rings and I stand up abruptly, running across the house to get to the phone.

Mother is just about to reach for it when I snatch it, and I grin at her. I answer the phone. "Hello?" I gasp, out of breath. Mother is smiling a little, crossing her arms.

"Tara?"

Lira! I nod, before realizing she can't see me. "Yes. Is – is Matz there with you?"

"Yes, but he's upstairs. He's exhausted. I don't think he slept much on the way here," she says.

"But he's _all right_?" I ask. "Otherwise?"

"Very all right."

I hand the phone to Mother, relieved. I'm sure I'm going to sleep soundly tonight. Matz is all right, Matz is all right, and I'm going to see the Hawthornes again.

But I _don't _sleep soundly tonight.

I wake up early next morning after a nightmare. It wasn't too terrible, but I did have to get a drink of water, so I go downstairs quietly to hydrate. We're going to District Two today, and I really want to get a good sleep before the train ride. As I'm about to leave the kitchen, I hear some shuffling in the living room, so I peek through the divider. Father is inserting a tape into the player, presses "play", and sits back down.

The screen fades into a title.

**THE SEVENTY-FIFTH HUNGER GAMES**

**THE QUARTER QUELL**

I have never seen any Hunger Games tapes. We don't have any at home, and I never wanted to see any of it. I hate the Hunger Games. Still... I have to admit, I am very curious. This is the Quarter Quell, so it is the second Games, with my parents.

Father skips all the formalities, going straight to the beginning of the Games. I stare. I've seen it all in the stories I've heard, but it's now that I realize I have never belied that the Games are _real_. Seeing it, seeing my parents among a group of people they are ready to kill – it's unbelievable. I don't want to believe it.

Mother? Yes, that's Mother. She does look a lot like me... a fact I'm not entirely sure I appreciate. She looks so much younger. So strange. She swims to the Cornucopia, getting a bow and arrow (of course). And now she's talking to... Finn? No, of course not. Finn_ick_. I stare at the screen, at these two people who are very able to kill one another with the weapons they have in their hand.

Later, I see Finnick just aim his trident and throw. No thought. Then, the victim is dead. I stare in shock, but this isn't anything compared to the mindblowing thing I see next. Mother, as she shoots at another woman who has gotten apparently too close. The bow and arrow are deadly extensions of her body. She is almost unbeatable with them. Sure, the woman she was aiming at dodged it, but when she shoots, I see something in her face that's so unusual, so harsh, so not Mother, I can't take it. I close my eyes and run upstairs.

Even though the first nightmare went away, another one makes an appearance, and it frightens me even more.

Mother.

Bow and arrow.

That was not Mother.

Ruthless.

_We are not the killing machines our parents were._

My mother was a killing machine?

I cry myself to sleep.

* * *

:)

HEY YOU, AUTHOR, DIDN'T THEY CANCEL ALL TAPES AND RERUNS OF THE QUARTER QUELL? HUH? YOU GOT IT ALL WRONG

Yeah, well, it's halfway through the first Games when Katniss actually aims to kill. Work with me. I do have some sort of excuse, which I just touch on in the next chapter. :P

Boo hoo. This is my last new chapter before I am officially a high school student. When I update you guys tomorrow, I'll have school... ugh. I love school, but I'm not looking forward to:

1) High school

2) Waking up early (← major)

3) The homework, again

_**Review, please!**_


	9. District Two

Dear readers, I have to apologize, because this one is a bit longer than usual. Sorry. :)

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Hunger Games magnificence. (God, I used to be able to come up with such witty disclaimers. What happened?)**

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We leave as soon as we can, so we go away just as soon as I wake up. I try to forget Mother's "killing face", but every time I look at her now, I remember the tape and I can't look at her back.

Grandmother and the Odairs are sad to see us go – but they understand, of course. I have half a mind to beg, this time, for Grandmother to come with us. To come _home_. Although it's not home. At least, it's not home for her, and it would be unfair and cruel to ask her to come with us. I cling to her like Matz clung to Riegan and say, almost tearfully, "I'm going to miss you, Grandmother."

She's surprised at this display of emotion, and I choke back snapping that I'm not Mother, who doesn't wear her emotions close to the surface. "I'm going to miss you, too, dandelion."

I'm also about to say that only Father can call me that, but I don't mind, surprisingly. Finn says, "I'm sorry you have to leave so early. It's nice to have someone relate."

I smile. "Yeah, it is."

"Say hi to Riegan for me. Maybe we can all meet up sometime soon." He grins and jokes, "Form that club you were talking about."

I burst out laughing. "Maybe."

The train ride isn't too long. We arrive in District Two after I have a short nap. When we get off the train, I'm groggy and irritated (as I always am when I first wake up), but otherwise, I'm in high spirits. Matz is all right, Matz is all right, and I'm going to see the Hawthornes again.

Gale and Riegan are there to pick us up from the station. "Matz refused to come," Gale explains with a rueful smile. "He thinks that if he comes to the train station while you're here, you'll shove him on and drag him to Twelve."

Mother groans, and Father says: "Well, thanks so much for taking care of him, anyway, Gale."

"It's been no problem." He smiles. "He's a perfect guest."

I'm only halfway listening, because my eyes are on Riegan, who smiles at me. I have _missed _that smile, too much. He raises his arms a little, as if hesitant that I'm not going to greet him, and I fly to hug him so I can erase those hesitations. But why is he hesitating? He laughs. "I'm glad to be seeing you sooner than I expected, Miss Mellark."

I beam and tell him, unabashed: "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he says, blushing, because I know behind me, Gale, Mother, and Father are giving him looks, whether they be amused, teasing, warning, or amused again. I let go of him. _We are not the __killing machines our parents were_, I remind myself, _and so, we are not our parents_.

"Finn says hi," I tell him stiffly. Riegan looks confused at my sudden change, but I look away. I'll explain later.

We make our way through District Two, arriving at the Hawthorne's house in just a few minutes. I run into the house, where Matz is sitting at the dining table with Lira. "Matzo!" I cry, and I'm hesitant to reach out and hug him, like Riegan was. But he comes and hugs me anyway. "Do you have _any idea _how worried we've been?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry," he apologizes sincerely. There's no "but", and so, I'm confused, but then Riegan moves up beside me. Of course. Matz still wants to be like Riegan. He needs to take responsibility for his actions. Riegan would never have run away in the first place, but if he did, he wouldn't have been defensive.

Mother takes him up in her arms as if he wasn't eight yet. "Matzo," she says, trying to be stern, but her voice almost cracks. "Don't _ever _give me that kind of worry again, young man." I have to smile, now. She isn't killing-machine-Mother. She's just Mother, and I like her that way.

Matz giggles. "Sorry, Mother. I just wanted to see Riegan."

Riegan passes off his snort as a violent cough. I giggle. Mother sighs, but she's smiling. "Well, if you wanted to see Riegan so badly, couldn't you just ask me?"

"You wouldn't have said yes," he says disdainfully, slipping into his real character for a moment, "and I am sorry!"

"I know, Matzo." She puts him down and kisses his forehead.

After I see that Matz was okay, Riegan pokes me. "Hey. I'll show you where you're staying."

I nod and take my suitcase, leaving Matz with Mother and Father. Really, Riegan just means that he wants to talk to me. As we're walking up the stairs, he says, "I know it's terrible he ran away and got you worried, but..." He grins at me, and I know where his thought is going.

I nod and smile. "Yeah. I know. I'm kind of happy he did, too."

We arrive at the guest room, and he says, "Didn't you want to come visit me, Tara?"

So that's why he was all hesitant to greet me when he first saw me at the station. Matz probably told him I wasn't eager to see him again. "Of course I did!" I say, aghast. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

"Yes, I do."

Right. Okay. Well, fine.

"I just... I couldn't – I – can't," I stammer. I can't even talk about this to Riegan! I sit on the extra bed in the guest room and sigh. "I did want to see you, Riegan."

"All right," he says. I look up at him critically. He seems to believe me, I guess.

There's an awkward silence for a moment.

Awkward silence! With Riegan! Things aren't going well, clearly.

"Why are you awkward, all of the sudden?" I'm thinking he means with him when he adds, "I've seen the way you looked at your mother today. What happened?"

Of course he didn't miss it. I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. "I saw a Quarter Quell tape. I don't even know how Annie Odair got it..."

"District Thirteen. They probably had it made," he says, and sits down beside me. "But anyway, what happened?"

"I was so scared! I saw Mother kill. It was so different from what I've seen of her all my life," I say sorrowfully.

"Aw, Tara..." He smiles sadly and hugs me. "Don't worryabout it. That's all over. None of our parents are like that anymore."

"But the point is they were!" I say, crossing my arms. "I _hate _the Hunger Games. I hate hate hate hate hate hate it."

Even after its over, it still affects people. I close my eyes tightly, because I'm not crying. I take a deep breath. Riegan nudges me gently. "Are you all right?"

"I guess..."

"You ought to talk to Katniss about it," he tells me in a wise tone that's so not Riegan that I stare up at him in wonder. "What?"

I laugh and shrug. "Nothing, I guess. And I will."

Riegan pulls me up. "Come on, we're going to meet my friends in the mean time. They're just down the block. Matz already met them. He loves them."

I'm overcome with a sudden strange nervousness. "Okay."

While we're walking down the street, Riegan senses my nervousness and gives me a reassuring smile. Now, I'm remembering his emails as we approach a small group of teens at the end of the block. My mind remembers the words as I survey the people.

_You asked me about my friends, well. Here's the most description I can give you about how they look. I think you'd get a better idea of their personality when you meet them. There's Vins..._

A stocky kid with District Eleven dark skin, curly black hair. He's the "maturest" of the group. He even looks like it.

_Then there's Fraser …_

He's the opposite of Vins, 'cause he has pale skin and hair that's so blonde it's almost white.

… _and then Ysabel, who would hurt me if I forgot to mention her._

She's the only girl in the group, with brown hair that falls in waves around her scrawny shoulders. She has freckles and chocolate brown eyes.

Riegan's making sure that I don't hide behind him by the time we reached his friends, who look at me in what I felt is a critical manner. "Boys and girl, may I present Miss Tara Mellark, sword fighter extraordinaire, compulsive eavesdropper..."

Fraser bursts out laughing. "You've already told us everything about her, Riegan."

"Her favorite color is yellow," Vins starts.

"She loves primroses," continues Fraser.

Vins is about to pick up when Ysabel pinches them both. "Aw, leave them alone. You're not setting a good first impression with Tara." There we go. At least I like one of Riegan's friends at first meeting.

"Sorry," says Fraser with a smile, and it changes him like Riegan's smile changes him. "You've practically replaced us as best friends of Riegan, you know."

I give the coloring Riegan an amused, questioning look. "We-ell, I wasn't trying to, I promise."

"Your little brother's pretty cool, by the way," Fraser adds, "except he ran away from Four to visit _Riegan_."

Ysabel sighs dreamily and says a bit resentfully, "He left _Finn Odair_ to see _Riegan_..."

"I'm pretty awesome," Riegan scoffs jokingly. "Matz had plenty of reason to run away." He adds haughtily: "And I'm every bit as good looking as Finn Odair!"

"And we're kind of happy he ran away, because now we get to meet you!" says Ysabel happily, ignoring his last statement. Riegan looks offended. "And now we can play the Hunger Game. Riegan says it's not the same if you're not in it."

I'm blushing too much. "You guys want to play the Hunger Game?" I ask meekly. "With me?"

"Duhhhh," says Ysabel, "and how long are you staying? We have a Snow Day – kind of like a party – for our neighborhood this time of year. You should come! Everybody who's heard Riegan since he came back from Twelve has been _dyyyyyying _to meet you, Tara."

Ysabel's enthusiasm is throwing me off. Riegan saves me: "Ah, stop loading everything on her, Ysabel." But then he looks to me and says, "Not that you shouldn't consider coming."

"I should ask," I say, "but I'm not really one for parties, either way..."

"Nonsense." Ysabel wrinkles her nose. "I'll convert you, then."

I laugh. "Good luck."

Ysabel makes toward Riegan's house. "Come on. Let's get Matz and we can go out to the park and play. I've been _dying _to try out this game of yours."

The two other boys follow Ysabel. Riegan stays with me. "Well, what do you think?"

"I like Ysabel," I tell him slowly, "and I _think_ I can like Fraser and Vins."

Riegan smiles and says, "They're great, really. They don't have the best first impressions, but they'll grow on you, hopefully."

I shrug and go ahead with his friends as they walk into the Hawthornes' house. Mother is still there with Matz on her lap, and Father sitting beside her. Mother looks every bit like a mother, and I've forgotten that to the rest of the world, she was once the Mockingjay. She is singing softly to Matz while Father, Gale, and Lira are talking about what happened in Four.

"Oh … !" says Fraser in shock. "Katniss Everdeen!"

"Forgot who my mother was, Fraser?" I ask, a bit proudly.

"I forgot she'd be here!" he splutters. Vins looks equally dumbstruck.

Mother looks dryly amused. Ysabel goes right up to her and says, "It's _such an honor _to meet you, Miss – Mrs ..."

"Mrs. Mellark," she finishes for her. "Katniss Everdeen's long gone. I'm just boring Mother now."

"You aren't boring," Father and I say abruptly, as Matz says:

"Why?" he looks up at her in curiosity. "Why is it such an honor to meet you, Mother?"

Ysabel, thank goodness, realizes her mistake after about three seconds of thought and shakes her head. I'm liking her more and more. "Your mother's pretty cool, Matz."

"Oh-_kay_," says Matz, hopping off Mother's lap. "Can I go play, Mother?"

"As long as you don't run away to another District, Matzo," she says, mussing his hair. He gives her an irritated look, but I can tell that he's happy he's not old enough to reject those little affectionate things yet. "Promise?"

Matz nods. "Promise! If you let me play."

"Yes, yes... go play..." says Mother, rolling her eyes, but smiling.

"Yes! Ysabel, Ysabel, did I tell you 'bout how we started wrestling this year? All the _other _boys were scared to go against me!" he boasts, pulling at her arm and leading her outside.

My jaw drops slightly as he holds Ysabel's arm, while the rest of us follow. Riegan winks at me, and once Ysabel and Matz are out of earshot, he says confidentially, "Matz has his first crush."

Vins and Fraser find this hilarious and start laughing. I say sympathetically: "Poor Ysabel."

"Poor Ysabel!" repeats Fraser, snorting.

Ysabel leads us to the park. We're not having a mud fight for this Hunger Game. "Snowball fight!" crows Matz. He looks up at Ysabel imploringly. "Will you be my ally, Ysabel?"

The boys burn red from holding back their laughter.

Ysabel, who impresses me even more, nods and smiles. "Of course, Matzo."

"Oh, well, in that case, why don't we make it 74th Hunger Games style? Same District, you can win together?" suggests Fraser.

"But -" Matz begins, thinking he's going to be paired with me instead of Ysabel.

Vins cuts in, "You and Ysabel can be whatever District..."

"I'm with Tara!" Riegan interrupts. I step sideways closer to him, and he grins.

"Exactly," says Vins, rolling his eyes. "You guys can be Career tributes. Fraser and me are going to be District Five -"

"Why Five?" Fraser interrupts.

"Does it matter?" Vins looks at him exasperatedly, and the rest of us laugh. "And then Ysabel and Matz can be Twelve."

We're not at all evenly matched, but I shrug and join Matz and Riegan in creating snowballs for our Cornucopia. (Along with all the previous rules, being hit with a snowball means you're dead.) Ysabel drags her toe along the snow to create our starting points, and after everyone's taken their place, she calls the start of the 1,234th Hunger Games. (I shudder at the thought of a _thousand years _of child slaughter.)

I get distracted as Riegan prompts me to start making more snowballs. His eyes turn from me to the others and suddenly pulls me closer to him. Matz' snowball skims the back of my coat.

He says to me in amusement, "Keep your eyes open, Miss Mellark." He reaches up and pulls one of the branches off the tree behind him. "En garde."

I take the makeshift sword and notice that he only pulled it out because both Matz and Vins have their own "swords" out. I taunt Matz, "You don't actually think you can beat me, little brother?"

He goes right up to me and we begin fighting, but because I'm his big sister, I do take mercy on him. I don't go all out like I might with Vins, but he's busy throwing snowballs with Fraser. I tease, "Afraid I'm going to embarrass you in front of Ysabel?"

"Taraaa!" he whines, blushing.

I giggle. "Oh, so you _do _like her."

"She's pretty." Matz turns around to see Ysabel, who's running around to avoid Riegan's throws. I take the advantage, bending down to scoop some snow and throw it in his direction in a single movement. He pouts and whines at me again. "Tara!"

"Don't get distracted," I say to him teasingly, promptly turning my attentions to the others. Fraser is sitting on the ground with a grumpy look on his face. Riegan looks smug, so I'm guessing Riegan got him. I look at Matz and Fraser's disgruntled looks. They're sitting beside each other. I smile and go back to them. "Come on, you guys. Forget the Hunger Game. Let's just have our own fun."

"Well... in that case..." Fraser looks up at me, and he takes some snow in his glove.

I shriek and run away as the snowballs are pelted at me. I retaliate by going to our Cornucopia, hiding behind the tower of snowballs and using them to throw at the others. Now this is fun.

Way better in comparison to the stupid Hunger Games.

I'm thinking of that when Riegan gets me square in the face. My jaw drops, and the snowballs stop. I wipe the snow from my face to see that he looks only halfway apologetic. My lips widen into a smile.

"You're going to _pay _for that, Hawthorne!"

...

"So, you had fun today?"

I grin up at Riegan. We had spent the entire day outside with the others, only stopping once we were called for dinner. Riegan, Matz, and I were soaking wet and giggling all throughout the meal. It's bedtime, now, and we're all in our pajamas. Matz jumps on the guest bed and is nodding. "Yes, yes, yes! So much fun!"

Riegan smirks at me, and then at Matz. "And it had nothing to do with _Ysabel_..."

"Aw, Riegan, not you, too!" he complains.

"Well, you _do _like her," Riegan teases, rolling his eyes.

I smile as Matz falls on his butt on the bed, pouting. "So? Doesn't mean you get to make fun of me because of it."

"I'm sorry," says Riegan sincerely. He's trying to keep Matz' respect.

Just then, Mother comes in. "Hey, boys, do you mind if I talk to Tara alone for just a second?"

I'm startled. I look up at Mother, then at the boys, who shrug. "Sure," says Riegan. He, like me, has a guess of what Mother wants to talk to me about. "See you in the morning, Tara." I give him a small wave. Matz follows him out, yapping on about Ysabel.

"Hey," Mother says, sitting down beside me, cross-legged.

I look suspiciously up at her. "Hi..."

"What happened? Why do you keep looking at me like I did something wrong, sweetheart?" she asks me gently. She's more "Mother" now than she was at any other time.

I blush. "Because I saw..." My voice falters.

"Saw what?"

"Father watching the Quarter Quell," I whisper, ashamed. "I didn't _mean _to, and I only saw the part where you... right after you were talking to Finnick Odair."

"Right after I was talking to..." Mother looks puzzled, and then there's understanding on her face. "Oh, Tara, I'm so sorry you had to see that. _Why _did you watch it?"

"I didn't mean to!" I say defensively. "I was curious... when Father started watching."

Mother sighs. "Tara, you have to understand..."

"I understand," I interrupt.

She gives me the don't-interrupt-me-when-I'm-talking-young-lady look, and I "zip" my mouth closed. Mother wants the chance to explain, I guess. She says, "I was dedicated to bringing your father home. It was hard for me, too, to understand that to make sure he would live, everybody had to die. Including myself."

"And I hate it," I say bitterly.

Mother laughs hollowly. "Tara, you don't think I _don't _hate it, do you? All I wanted was my family and friends to be safe, and the Capitol, back then, made sure that didn't happen."

I burst out, "I was scared of you, after I saw your face." Mother's face twists into pain, and I whisper, "On the tape, it wasn't like you weren't... _Mother_. You were somebody else."

She takes me up in her arms and says, "I am sorry you had to see the tape, Tara. And I'm sorry because there's nothing I can do to make you feel better."

I bite my lip. "It's okay, though."

"How?"

"Because I saw you singing to Matz today, and like right now. You're Mother. You're not..." Again I let my sentence trail off, scared it's going to offend her.

"Not killing machine Katniss Everdeen?" she suggests wryly. I give her an embarrassed smile and nod. "Come, Tara, I can sing you to sleep and just be Mother for you."

I move over and pull myself under the sheets. She brushes the hair from my forehead as she sings Rue's Lullaby for me. The last thought I can really form as her song finishes is: _Yes, I prefer Mother to Katniss Everdeen.

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_

**_Review, please!_**


	10. Shopping

I love when I think, for the whole day, that my update is ready for tomorrow when it's actually _unfinished_. Oh, _joy_. See, if it were summer I would wake up late and finish it then, but... -sigh- I know I shouldn't have an excuse, but I'm really sorry this chapter isn't that exciting :( I promise, starting today I'll put more effort into the quality rather than getting it out A.S.A.P.

**HELP! Missing disclaimer. Very witty, talks about how I'm not Suzanne Collins. Reward is another update. (That one sucked.)**

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It's funny how my vacation in Four, with Grandmother and the Odairs, gets cut short, and any time the Hawthornes and my family get together, our vacation ended up longer than expected. We planned to stay just 'til the weekend, but our leaving date is extended because of Ysabel's invitation to the Snow Day ("kind of like a party"). Matz is delighted, and I guess I am, too. Mother, I think, has had her "quota of the Hawthornes" kind of filled for the year, and spends much of her time with Father at the mall. We don't have a huge mall like it in Twelve, so it's an interesting place. I've chosen not to go there yet.

And I still haven't even when Riegan and I come across Ysabel. "All righty, Riegan dearest, you've had her for much longer than I, so I am kidnapping you, Tara."

"Kidnapping me?" I repeat.

She nods. "Yes. You've come unprepared for a party, so we're going to the mall to buy you something. The party's _tomorrow_."

Riegan clears his throat. "What? I can't come? Carry your bags?"

I'm sure I look exactly like Ysabel as we both look at Riegan, dumbstruck. Ysabel says what I'm thinking: "You want to come? You want to carry our bags?" She emphasizes the last few words in awe.

"Any objections?" he asks dryly. "C'mon, Ysabel."

"Okay, fine. I guess you can come." I notice she doesn't ask for my opinion. Well, I guess it's a given that I don't mind Riegan's company.

And so, with my growing reluctance, Riegan, Ysabel, and I are taken to the mall thanks to Gale, who tells us to have fun as he drops us off. Riegan gives me a shake of the head, and mutters as we follow Ysabel inside, "As if that's possible."

I laugh. "Why'd you come, then?"

"Because you need somebody to help you through this ordeal," he tells me scornfully, "and don't you appreciate my dedication to our friendship?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course, Riegan."

"Hurry up!" cries Ysabel. I rush up to her and she takes my arm. "Okay, Tara... where to go... where to go, first..."

She's not asking for my opinion. I'm amused instead of irritated, frankly. She gasps and drags me into a store with dim lights and energetic music. It reminds me of Capitol and upper District culture. "I'm just tagging along," I remind her. "Just following instructions."

"Oh, I know." Ysabel nods and sizes me up. "Hm." Then, she pulls me to the other end of the store, where there are uncomfortable-looking dresses.

"Those look uncomfortable," voices Riegan. Thank you, Riegan...

"They do," I say timidly.

Ysabel smiles at me. "Oh, come on, please, Tara? You'll only be in the dress for a few hours. And I can get you one that feels comfortable!"

I shrug. "I'm at your mercy today, Ysabel."

"Gosh, you're _such_ an agreeable person. I like you."

I laugh. "I like you too, Ysabel." She traipses off to go pick out a dress for me, and Riegan gives me a sympathetic smile.

"You're in for a tough day, Miss Tara."

"Oh, it's good," I say with a shrug. "I need something like this in my life once in a while. Elli and I don't usually get to do this kind of thing. Also, I like Ysabel."

Riegan shakes his head disbelievingly. He's forced to sit down at every store we go to, watching idly as Ysabel forces various articles of clothing onto me. It's okay for the first few minutes. In fact, I come across some dresses that I think look decent on me, but Ysabel refuses to bend. "Ysabel, what are you looking for?" Riegan demands after our third store.

"I'll _know _when I _see _it!" she says. "Trust me!" Ysabel likes her italics.

"That's getting harder and harder to do," Riegan says to me under his breath. As of right now, we've already bought some things, and they're not just for me. He carries the bags as Ysabel skips off to another store.

"You _never _volunteer to carry bags for girls, Riegan. Lesson learned." I smirk as he huffs in frustration.

"The lesson was learned ages ago, Miss Tara."

We find Ysabel inside the store, frozen and hands clasped together in front of her breast. I can see her reflection in the mirror beside her. Her dimples have shown up, on now rosy cheeks, and I exchange looks with Riegan. It's the same not-so-hidden hope in our faces: Please, let this be the one Ysabel's looking for. She sees me in the mirror and reaches to pull me forward. I can see what she's in awe about now.

"Isn't it _lovely_?" she whispers to me, blissfully.

If this were the first dress we'd seen, I would have happily agreed, but now I'm wondering, of all the extravagant and colorful dresses we had seen today, she decides simple is good enough?

It fit everything that I liked in clothing. It didn't look like I would be constantly fidgeting in it. It wasn't ugly. I could see myself in it, and while in it, I could be happy. It's a simple, knee-length dress, made of what I think is silk, but what do I know? I do recognize the sheer fabric on the skirt, though. But, perhaps most importantly to me (strangely enough), it is yellow. I smile a little. "It is lovely, Ysabel." I look at her again and I think she means to get it for her. "You should try it on," I suggest meekly.

Ysabel's expression fades into amazement. "Are you _serious_?" She takes it off the rack and says, "It's made for you, Tara. It's almost exactly the same one your mother wore once..."

I realize what she's talking about. Mother has a closet that she basically never opens; inside are the most beautiful dresses – she hardly wears them anymore. Mother never willingly goes to parties, but if she does, she wears the ones in the closet. I know now, of course, that they are Cinna's dresses. I have seen the yellow one, of course. It's yellow.

I'm suddenly overcome with a dislike for the dress. It is more reason for people to say that I look just like my mother, when she was my age. "My mother wore a dress like this once," I agree, not taking the hanger that Ysabel's holding out to me. "I've seen it. Yeah... this is just. Like. It."

Riegan immediately sees what I'm talking about, even though we've barely spoken about it over the past week. "You should try it on, Tara. It looks nice."

_It looks nice_. That's a boy's opinion for you. Ysabel nods earnestly. "Come on – he hasn't said that about any other dress we've seen today."

"Even if -" I began to protest to Riegan.

He interrupts me and nods. "Even if."

"Riegan, out." Ysabel points out the store.

"Why?" he asks, aghast and offended.

"Because you shouldn't see her in it yet!" she announces.

"We're not getting _married_," Riegan scoffs, "it's just a dress for Snow Day, not a wedding gown!" I keep my eyes on the dress and try to memorize the newspaper headlines this morning to erase the blush on my cheeks. It was just an off-hand comment, too...

Ysabel rolls her eyes. "No thanks. I know what I'm doing. Go away and phone your dad. We're probably done here."

Riegan rolls his eyes and walks out. Ysabel gives me a knowing look and I hastily walk into the dressing room. I don't walk out as soon as I'm finished changing into the dress because I have to look at myself in the mirror for a while. The dress gives the illusion of wearing candlelight. A little girl wearing candlelight. That's what I am. I don't look anything like Mother, but I do look like Katniss.

"Tara?"

Ysabel's voice is strangely nervous, so I walk out of the dressing room to remove her anxiety. She gasps in delight, and tells me to take it off, we're buying it. At the counter, she says, "Riegan..."

"No, I'm Tara." I smile.

Ysabel rolls her eyes and takes the bag as we walk out. "I mean..."

I interrupt her so she doesn't have to say it. I already know what she's getting at. "I _don't _like him. That way."

She gives me a wary look, and I hear what she's thinking. _Not yet_. "Why not?"

"Riegan's like my brother."

"Except not really." Ysabel shakes her head. "You don't like him the way you like Matz."

"Matz is younger," I say weakly, "that's all."

Ysabel shrugs. "Whether or not he likes you that way, I don't know... but I do know that he cares about you a lot. Or at least admires you very much."

I clear my throat, embarrassed. "What makes you say so?"

"Do you have any idea how excited he was when he found out you were coming?" Ysabel smiles, with a trace of shyness I've never seen in her. "Or how much of a _disagreeable _person he was when he came back? It took him a while to stop missing District Twelve, and even then, he was talking to us about you and Matz and District Twelve."

"And Matz and District Twelve," I repeat.

Ysabel shrugs. "I've known Riegan since we were in diapers. Now, _that _is liking him like a brother. I can't feel any differently about him, because romantic love is incestuous and hate wouldn't be real. But you're the first real girl that he's been friends with aside from me."

I'm glad when we reach the exit, because I don't want to talk about this. Riegan's there waiting outside. "Did you buy it?" he asks, and Ysabel launches into a different topic, so I forget about our previous conversation, much to my relief.

...

"Let me see it!" Mother says as Ysabel, Riegan and I walk into the Hawthornes' house.

"Mrs. Mellark, can you make sure Riegan doesn't see Tara in it?" Ysabel asks innocently. "We're hoping to surprise as many people as possible. It's the _loveliest _dress, it would be so much more fun if we people didn't see it until Snow Day."

That's a nice excuse. I smile, but Mother can see Ysabel's motive. She smiles anyway. "Of course, Ysabel. Go away, Riegan."

Riegan gawks at her and sighs dramatically as he walks toward the den. He continues with his theatrics. "_Fine_! Oh, it seems I'm not wanted, today! Despite how _helpful _I was today..." Matz walks out out of the den and stares at him curiously. He bursts out feelingly, "Oh, Matzo, my ungrateful _friends_!" My poor brother keeps looking at him in both wariness and confusion.

Ysabel and I chorus, "Thanks, Riegan."

Riegan drops his act immediately and smiles his smile. "You're welcome." His smile is no longer the person-you-wished-you-knew-smile, because I do know him, and now it's just "his smile".

"I'll go," Ysabel announces. "I have to make my own outfit now."

I give her a hug. "Thanks, Ysabel."

She looks surprised but hugs me back. "It's my pleasure. I'll see you tomorrow."

Mother puts her arm around my shoulders as Ysabel heads back out. "Come, Tara. Let's see the dress."

We go up to the guest room and kick Father out. Mother pulls out the dress, and I see her expression soften as she holds it out to see. "Oh..."

"It's like yours," I say quietly.

Mother nods offhandedly. "My post-Games interview, when I saw Peeta for the first time after the Games..."

We are silent for a moment.

"Put it on," Mother tells me, "I want to see." I meet her eyes before going to change in the guest bathroom. Again, I just have to look at myself in the mirror for a few seconds before walking out. Mother is smiling. I'm expecting her to say something like, "little Katniss", or "wow, you look just like me!", but she doesn't.

"Well?" I ask cautiously.

"My cute little girl's a beautiful young lady," she says with un-Mother-ish softness. "It's funny how quickly you've grown up."

I smile a little. "I'll bet you grew up pretty quickly, too."

Mother bursts out laughing. "Touche."

* * *

Okay, so I did write some more for this update but then it ended up getting too long, so it'll be in tomorrow's new chapter.

Please don't hate me if I don't have tomorrow's new chapter up, because there's a major possibility I won't. I'm suuuuper busy this afternoon. I'll be delivering papers and at a training session for something most of the afternoon and through dinner. :-/

As always, thanks so much for all the reviews and the story/author alerts/favorites. I really appreciate it :)

**_Review, please!_**


	11. Snow Day

So, I've impressed myself and finished this chapter (even if it is a crappy length at just under 2,000 words... SORRY OKAY). I have absolutely _nothing _for tomorrow, so don't expect it 'til late. It's Friday, so I'll definitely have time to write. If I find some ideas.

Second day of high school went okay. Meh. I still can't really judge since it's, you know, the second day.

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

The next day, Lira lends me a pair of slippers for the Snow Day, as well as a shrug. It'll be heated in the community center, but she still advised me to wear it. Riegan went there early, both because Ysabel forced him to, and because he volunteered to help do some set-up. Naturally, Matz followed where Riegan (and Ysabel) went, so when the time for the Snow Day comes, it's just me and the parents in the Hawthorne house. "You look so pretty, Tara!" says Lira, when I stand in the foyer, looking down at my body self consciously.

I smile up at her. "Thank you."

"Come. I'm to bring you to the community center today," she says, twirling the car keys in her hand. "Katniss, Peeta, and Gale are going to follow."

It's a mostly youth gathering, but they will be there to chaperone, and perhaps to enjoy. I sit anxiously beside Lira in the car, because while I'm not socially awkward, I won't know many of the kids at the Snow Day. I do know some of them – the Hawthornes' neighbors, more friends of Riegan – but not enough to make me comfortable. Lira, who shares her son's ability to know what people are feeling, even gives me a kiss on the cheek as I thank her and make to get out of the car. "You'll be fine," she assures me. "They'll take care of you."

I grin a little. "Thanks again."

The minute I step into the building, Ysabel is there. She takes me by the arm and leads me around. I barely have any time to actually look at everything. "You look so pretty!" she gushes to me, even though she's already seen me in the dress. I didn't even do much to my hair.

I look first around me. Colorful streamers hang from the rafters, there's food on tables around the room, and then an empty space which I presume is a dance floor in the middle. Then, at Ysabel. She's pretty, as usual – I can imagine Matz' little puppy eyes already. Her hair is curled and everything. Ysabel has actually put in the effort into looking nice. I feel a little under-dressed standing next to her. "You do, too," I say sincerely to her.

Ysabel shrugs it off modestly. "What do you think?" She motions around us.

"Very... partyish?" I say, smiling timidly.

Ysabel scoffs and opens her mouth to reply, but just then, the boys walked up to us. I hadn't seen them. They're all wearing something nice, but not too formal. Just dress pants and a nice shirt. Even Matz is wearing something better than his grass-stained shirt and shorts. "Tara!" says Matz in surprise. "You look pretty!"

"Oh, thanks, Matzo," I say, rolling my eyes. "You look pretty, too."

Matz crosses his arms and gives me I think what is meant to be a mean look. "Hmph." But then his expression changes when he looks to Ysabel. "You look pretty, too, Ysabel!"

Ysabel smiles sweetly. "Thanks, Matzo." She looks up at the older boys. "Not too shabby, either, boys."

I _refuse _to look at Riegan. I'm going to be more embarrassed than I already am. I'm just expecting that the teasing would start even more from both him and Matz. When the music starts playing, Ysabel takes Matz' hand and grins. "C'mon, Matzo, dance with me!"

I smile. I like Ysabel not (just) because she's nice to me, but she's extra nice to my brother. I sit down at the tables with the boys, and Riegan sits next to me. Obviously. I'm still avoiding his eyes but I do look at him. His hair is combed and – he's wearing … perfume? At first I'm surprised and I feel like teasing him, but it smells good. "Ysabel was right to let us be surprised," he comments, looking at me.

I lean back in my chair, looking down at my lap. "Yeah?"

He puts his finger under my chin and lifts it up gently. He smiles and lets go of my chin once he sees that I've satisfactorily made eye contact with him. "Yes. You look very nice tonight, Tara."

That just makes me look down again. "Thanks."

Riegan laughs. "What's up with you, Miss Mellark? Do dresses make you awkward?"

"No!" I say, and now I can't act awkward or he'll notice. I jut my chin out. "I'm just … it's weird because I don't really know anybody."

"Want me to match-make you?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I burst out laughing. "Um, no thanks. I'm not one for long distance, anyway." I look up as Vins and Fraser go over to ask some girls to dance.

"There we go. That's the Tara Mellark I know and love." He grins and stands up, then takes my hand. "Come on. Show me your dance skills."

"You're not serious!" I gasp, pulling back. It's not even that dancing with Riegan makes me hesitant. It's just that I don't really dance like that.

He smirks. "Very, very, serious. Come on!"

I give in, and all I'm thinking is,_ I'm going to regret this; I'm going to just set myself up for laughing at with my dancing_, but then Riegan starts dancing and my worries disappear.

"I can't believe you let him out here!" Ysabel calls out to me, looking at Riegan and covering her eyes, but she's laughing. He's holding his hands up in the air and waving them around now, complete with tongue sticking out. He's just going crazy, tossing his head around and ruining what was his perfectly combed hair.

"Riegan!" Matz says, horrified. His idol's a shame.

"What?" he asks innocently, taking Matz up in his arms easily and spinning him around.

"RIEGAAAAN!" Matz nearly screams.

Leave it to Riegan and Matz to make what I thought was going to be a disaster into something fun. After a few minutes, Ysabel and I pull Riegan and Matz off, because Riegan is an embarrassment and Matz is at his mercy. "God, never let him go out there unless a girl asks him to slow dance," Ysabel tells me tiredly.

Riegan smirks. "I'm not too terrible."

I scoff, but I'm still amused. The image of his dancing is clear in my mind, so I shudder. "_Yes_, you are."

The four of us take our original seats at the table as our parents walk in. They take off around the room to do their chaperoning, or whatever. I spy Riegan eying some of the girls who are just standing around, but when one or two ask him, he politely declines, saying he's not one for slow dancing. But even after that, he still looks around the room. I lean forward and ask him quietly, "What happens if the girl you want to dance with asks you?"

"There is no girl I want to dance with," he says slowly.

I look at him suspiciously. "... really?"

Riegan looks me in the eye. "No."

"Okay," I say, seeing how sure he looked. I hesitantly sit back.

"She's off limits," he explains.

What else can I say? "Oh." Then I smile. "You'll tell me if there's any progress on that, right?"

He laughs. "Of course."

The night wears on. Food, dancing. Even Father comes and dances with me once. It's, at first, really embarrassing to me, until he takes Mother onto the dance floor. Then, it's even more embarrassing. A few of the neighborhood boys I'd gotten to know asked me to dance with them, to some I agreed. The other girls were really kind to me as well, letting me join in on their little group dance. It made me sorry to know that I would be leaving them soon. I had made some nice friends.

"Just a few more minutes, dandelion, then we have to get you and Matz to sleep," says Father later. "Long day tomorrow."

I sigh, and am about to say that I'd be ready to leave, but then Riegan takes my hand. "Come on. One last dance with me. I won't be able to talk to you tomorrow morning when you leave since I have school again." He smiles at my gaping look (the song that just started playing is slow) and says, "You danced with Matz..."

The words at the tip of my tongue are, "that's different", but obviously, it isn't. At least, to him it isn't. Don't ask me what it is to me yet. I don't know. I shrug and let him pull me onto the dance floor and closer to him. "Hey," he said, because I wasn't meeting his eyes.

"Hm?" I look up.

And then he starts talking just... talk, and any awkwardness I might have been feeling swept away. It's just like how I would talk to him any other time, except I'm standing closer to him and I have my arms around his neck – and, well, yeah. When the song ends, he grins at me, and then leads me back to Matz, Ysabel, and our parents. Ysabel has to stay later for clean up, so she hugs me tightly. "I'm going to _miss you_," she says fondly. "I can see why Riegan likes you so much."

I smile. "So, are you joining the list of people I need to contact regularly?"

"Of course!" she says, "and I'll rush to the mailbox just like he does."

After a pause, I hug her again. "I'll miss you, too, Ysabel."

Then I say goodbye to all the other friends I had made in District Two, and the Hawthornes and my family are back to the house. Riegan has to go back for clean-up, but he wanted to come with us, since he has school the next morning and won't be able to see us leave. When everyone else has walked in except the Hawthornes (who will give Riegan a ride back to the community center), Riegan gives me a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much again," I tell him.

Riegan gives me a sad smile after pulling back. Then – he gives me a hasty, chaste kiss on the cheek and says softly, "Until next time, Miss Tara."

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**_ Review, please!_**


	12. Peeta's Story

Thanks so so so so much **BNago** for the main idea for this chapter :) I _have _been neglecting Peeta quite a bit. Oh, and I don't mind the criticism – it's constructive and it helped me. :D I appreciate (and need more of) it.

Also, dear **junbug24 **(first reviewer and still so loyal and awesome; thanks :D), I really don't mind if you take Riegan. I imagine Tara might. Not that she knows that.

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Later on, there are letters and emails to and from not just Riegan; there's also Ysabel, and Finn. Even Grandmother writes me, which I'm appreciating very much. She shares with me her funny experiences with her patients, tells me about her life in District Four – through the letters (Grandmother isn't one for typing), I've learned so much more about her than I have all my life. She's also a key into the world that my parents have kept locked up. It's not that I mind, but there are still things that I am curious about.

I glance at the letters scattered over the coffee table. I have them all collected; Mother's been trying to get me to clean them up, but there's just so many of them. I sift through them and find the one that I want to read.

_Finnick Odair_, Grandmother wrote, after I asked her about Finn's dad, _was a good-looking man, and that's mostly what he was known for in Panem... but you already knew that. I honestly didn't know him very well, Tara, aside from his relationship with Katniss – and even then I don't know too much about it. The two of them were suffering through the same things. They were both warriors –_ here I gave a tiny little scoff to myself – _and they were (are) both haunted with the same nightmares. During the time when your mother, Aunt Prim, and I were in District Thirteen, both Finnick and Katniss had loved ones in the Capitol. They both knew what the other was going through._

_But you already know so much about Katniss' past, dear. You **do **know your father did go through some ordeals, too, don't you?_

When I first read that, I skimmed it. Rereading it now, though, I have to consider why I did.

Father is the happier one. Not that Mother _isn't _happy, it's just that I have never seen Father upset. I know that he does, obviously, but he never shows it to me. Mother, on the other hand, has her moods. She can be sullen and snappish – and so, apologetic, after – but Father refuses to show that he's in a bad state. I have only seen him having a few of his (as my parents call it) "shiny" memories. Father's "fits" are quiet and hidden. I have woken to Mother's screams often enough through my life, so far.

As if on cue, I hear a thud from the room nearest to the living room – Father's office. I put down the letter and stand up slowly. Mother isn't home; she and Matz are at Haymitch's with the geese. I walk tentatively into the room, poking my head through the gap in the door. "Tara, don't come in," says Father tightly, gritting his teeth.

"Why?" I ask irritatingly.

Father leans his head back in frustration. "_Don't_."

"I don't see why," I say haughtily, "if you need to remember that Mother loves you, I'm pretty much your best proof."

This makes Father's face relax into a smile. He even laughs. "Good point." His grip on the back of the chair loosens, and he slouches down slightly, exhaling.

"Does it hurt?" I ask bluntly.

He shakes his head. "Not... physically."

"What do they look like?" I think I've abandoned all tact.

Father doesn't respond to me first. He holds up his arms. "Come here. It's better for me to believe you're real if I'm holding you." I move up and sit on his lap. Father likes to believe I'm still a little girl, and so do I.

I look up at him. "Well?"

"They're terrible enough to make me believe that Katniss is the reason all my old friends and my parents were killed," says Father. His eyes shut tightly. "Sometimes, when they're really bad, I forget everything she's done for me, and I want to hurt her."

"But the point is, you don't," I say.

Father has opened his eyes again. "I don't," he repeats, like he's trying to convince himself.

"When..." I pause, thinking about what I want to say. Less than half of the reason for these questions were because of curiosity. Mostly, I felt it was unfair that I never cared for Father's past as much as I had Mother's. "... when you were reaped, what were you thinking of?"

He looks thoughtful. "You know, after a while, it gets hard to separate what's real and what's not, but even that's a hard question to answer... because what could I think, Tara? How will I survive? What if Katniss gets killed?" Then he closes his mouth, and he looks as if he's about to say something, so I stay quiet. "But I think, once I was up there, standing beside her... what I wanted to do was not change."

"Not change?" I'm frowning. I don't get it.

"Yes. Not change. You couldn't understand, Tara, how I had watched the Games every year of my life, and I had seen people change. People went crazy and stopped loving all the things they used to love," he says darkly, "and their personality was lost because of the guilt of murder, or losing someone they had gotten close to, or starving or from dehydration... anything. The Capitol ruined every inch of life in Panem. Even if you were a victor. They never let you rest."

I can feel my eyes wide and my throat all dry. "What about for you?" I croak out, clearing my throat awkwardly.

He laughs humorlessly. "In the Games, it was so hard trying to keep your mother alive. Both of the Games. In between those times, I dealt with the puppy love heartbreak, and having to be kept out of things by Haymitch and Katniss, and then facing the Games again. After the second Games! Well, you know I never got any rest, then... that was the worst... well, no. I knew your mother was alive, so that was a plus side. Until I got hijacked, when it became a negative."

To think I considered for even a moment he was better off than Mother.

He catches my look and says gently, "Am I talking too much?"

I shake my head vigorously. "Definitely not."

"Am I scaring you?"

Again, I'm about to say no, but then I stop shaking my head and nod slowly. "Some parts of it are scary, but … I don't know. Maybe I'm getting used to it."

Father laughs. "That's not good," he teases gently, tickling me. I giggle slightly and wriggle, pushing his hand away.

"Tell me more," I say hopefully, "please?"

He considers this for a moment. "Did you know... I had to convince Katniss for us to have kids?"

"Oh, really?" I ask, genuinely surprised. I don't know why, though.

"Yes." Father nods. "When we were kids, having kids was just a burden. First of all, it meant more mouths to feed. Second -"

"The Hunger Games," I guess, crossing my arms.

"Yeah..." Father sighs and shrugs, "but anyway – I guess she never got over worrying about kids, about having to be responsible for a life." Mother comes in then, but Father doesn't notice. I smile a little, realizing that both Mother and I are the stealthy ones. Father and Matz don't have "tiptoeing" in their skill set. "She told me, when she felt you in her stomach, how scared she was..."

Mother moves in then, taking me in her arms, out of Father's. Then she says softly, "But only the joy of holding you could make up for that fear."

I grin and look at Father's somewhat surprised face. "What about Matz?" Mother puts me down, and Matz has peeked into the room. He took my place on Father's lap.

"Matz? Matz was just a little bit easier," said Mother, "but not by much."

"What are you guys talking about?" Matz asks loudly. I shoot a look at Mother, first, then Father. _They _exchange looks, now, and I see Mother nod slightly.

"Would you like to stay in the room for this, Tara?" she asks.

"You're telling him?" I say, incredulous. Matz is still 8. It was just earlier this year that my parents told me about the Hunger Games and their part in it!

Mother nods. "He won't like being left out of it if we wait, and he's much older than 8 now. He's trying. He deserves to know."

I'm about to protest, but then I nod. "I'll stay in here." Mother gives me another nod, and then motions for the "book" on the shelf. I move over and take it. Father has moved to the couch, Matz still sitting on his lap.

They go through the entire process again, with even more patience and sureness than they had with me. I guess it's better the second time around. Only, this time, Father is doing most of the talking, with Mother cutting in at certain times. At some points I feel like I should talk, but it's not my story. My eyes are mostly on Matz. His eyes widen, his cheeks flush, he fidgets, just like I did. But all through it he is quiet, which is very unusual.

When the stories finish, he leans against Father, frozen in shock. "Matzo?" asks Mother worriedly.

"A lot of things make sense now," he admits, "like the dandelions and Gale and Annie and Finn and Grandmother."

"You're okay, though," Mother says slowly.

He nods. "Of course I'm okay. It was just a lot of …" I don't know why I feel so shocked. How else did I expect Matz to react? I smile as he rifles through the book in wonder. "Aunt Prim," he says out loud quietly.

I look at Mother, and her face softens. "My sister."

"What was she like?" he asks, looking up at Father, then at Mother.

Father says, before Mother can say anything, "She was the sweetest little thing. There was something about her that made everyone care for her. She was compassionate, and she believed in preserving life, no matter whose or what's life it was... that was her element, when she was helping others live. And I barely knew her, Matzo; I know how good she was." He looks up at Mother and smiles. "Her blood came from your grandmother – the type that quickened during an epidemic instead of a hunt."

Mother laughs lightly. "You would have liked her."

"It's why we have primroses 'round the house, right?" asks Matz, "and why you all like them so much."

"It's a lot of the reason why I like them," I say. I lean over his shoulder. "They're pretty, just like she was, isn't it?" I'm talking more to Matz then, forgetting my parents are there.

Matz nods, and Mother says softly, "She inherited all the best qualities my family had to offer. My mother's healing hands, my father's level head... my fight."

"I wish I could have met her," Matz says bitterly. I feel his pain and nod, looking down at Aunt Prim's picture in the drawing.

Mother lets out a little choking noise and covers it up hastily: "I wish you could have met her, too, Matz."

Seeing that she was getting upset, I turn to Father. "What about you?"

"What _about _me?" he asks, turning the page with Matz.

"Your siblings." I raise a brow.

"I didn't have the dedication Katniss had to my siblings," he says slowly.

Mother sits beside him and rests her chin on his shoulder. "Tell them about them anyway."

He turns a few pages. On the left side, there is _Eddy_, and on the right page, there's _Tom(pouce)_. "Eddy was older than me by three years. He was nineteen when I was reaped. I think he was mother's favorite... he was disciplined to her liking and strong and handsome and -"

Mother smiles a little. "You're very strong and handsome, too, Peeta..." Matz and I both smile.

Father laughs and squeezes the hand that she took. "Thanks, Katniss," he says affectionately, "but I think Mother thought that Eddy was, more... if he were in the arena, people would be afraid. He probably would have been the Thresh of the arena, I think. I mean, I liked him enough, but, like he wouldn't have volunteered for me, I wouldn't have volunteered for him. He taught me a lot. I looked up to him, kind of like how Matz looks up to Riegan, only Riegan is a happier person to be around."

"What about Tom... poos?" asks Matz.

He snickers. "Tom-_puss_, Matzo, but we just called him Tom. He was eighteen when I was reaped; so he was in his last year of the reaping. He told me that he remembered being relieved for a fraction of a second – then he realized it was _me_... he said that he would forever hate how he didn't volunteer for me..." He pauses and adds, "Tom was a great wrestler."

"You were better," Mother says quietly and confidently, "the only reason you were second in school was because he was older."

"Your mother," he tells us, feigning exasperation, "can be ridiculous."

Mother kisses his cheek. "I love you, too."

"Ew," Matz says, rolling his eyes and squirming away from them, which was a problem, since he was on Father's lap.

"Okay, I'm done." Mother grins at Matz, who takes her word for it. Mother then turns to Father again. "Tell them about your parents."

"My mother wasn't a very nice woman. You all have a much nicer one than I did. She had her moments... I like to think that she did love me, but not quite in the way I would have liked her to show it. She didn't show much pride in me, and I don't think she cared to... I think we were more of a burden to her than a joy. My father was a bit nicer, though. He was a quiet guy, and he understood my … crush, on your mother," says Father.

"Why?" Matz still doesn't know that part of the story.

"He pointed out Katniss on the first day of school, and said -" Father begins.

Mother interrupts, "- 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner.'"

He grins and nods. "So I was confused, and I asked him, 'Why would she want to marry a coal miner if she could have you?'"

"'Because when he sang, even the birds stopped to listen'," I say, remembering the story.

"Like they do for Mother!" Matz exclaims.

Father nods. "Yeah. And then Katniss got up and sang in front of our class, and then I knew... just like Grandmother, I was a goner."

"That's good!" says Matz, his sentence punctuated by a lion's yawn.

Quick as a whip, Mother says, "Sleep."

"No!" Matz cries, "I don't want to! I'm not -"

"Do _not _tell me you're not sleepy." Mother smiles, and looks at me. "Same for you, Tara. Bedtime." Matz and I grumpily go upstairs to get ready for bed. After we have showered and everything, Mother goes to Matz' room to sing for him. Father goes to my room to read me a story, even though it's been ages since he's done that for me. His story is totally harmless, about a wizard boy who goes to a school for magic. I go to sleep thinking about it.

… but in what seems like a few minutes, the door opens, letting in light from the hallway. "Tara?" Matz' voice whispers.

I look up and say sleepily, "Yeah?" The clock on my bedside table informs me that it has actually not been a few minutes; it's been about five hours.

He is carrying a stuffed dragon and his green-and-brown blanket. He looks so like a little boy as he scuffles into my room. "I can't sleep."

"Huh?" I sit up. "Why?"

Matz shrugs. "I had a nightmare." He holds up the dragon. "Dragon grew and grew and grew and came to life and he ripped our house out of the ground. And then I came back and you weren't there, and Mother and Father weren't there... Riegan was a zombie..."

I smile and get out of bed, holding my pillow. I take his hand, but he doesn't complain. I pull him to Mother and Father's room. "I'll be at the foot," I whisper, "and you can go beside them." Matz nods and snuggles beneath the blankets beside my parents, and I put my pillow at Mother's feet, lying sideways on the bed.

I slept well that night, and so did Matz, I think. Our world is okay. Riegan isn't a zombie. Dragon won't grow and grow and grow and come to life and rip our house of the ground. Mother and Father and Matz are always there.

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"Strudel", in Middle High German, is literally "eddy". You can Google "Tompouce".

Also, this is going up before 12:00AM my time. That's some skillz right there. :P

Reviewwww, please!


	13. Riegan Returns

_Apparently_, you all want your Riegan. Here _I _was, thinking I was overloading the Riegan. Well, then. Enjoy. Plenty of Riegan here.

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

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**

"Father," I say, as I skip beside him while we (all of us except Mother) walk in town, "can we get them something?"

"Like, what?" he asks, peering into some of the stores. We're on the way to the bakery. "And why?"

I shrug. It's been about five months since we last saw the Hawthornes, and my birthday is just in three days. The dates of their visit moved over from spring to summer, starting with tomorrow. "I don't know," I reply, going back to a walk. "I just feel like getting them something."

"You can get Riegan some of the candies from Abel's place," Father suggests, pointing with his chin at the store across the road. "He had some when he was here, last year, right? He liked them."

The idea of the candy store positively enthralls Matz. "Yes!"

Father laughs. "Tara?"

I nod, smiling. "We'll go. Should we wait for you to finish here?"

"No; I'll meet you there."

We run across the road and into the candy store. The bells chime pleasantly when I pull the door open for Matz. In our small settlement of just over 9,000 – just a bit larger than the population of when Mother and Father were my age – it's easy to find people who you already know just around town. Sure enough, as I walked in, I was greeted by three familiar faces. Do you know how there are always _those kids _at school who you just can't really get along with? For District Twelve, those are Teenan, Lynn, and Keley – the last being the only one in my class. Teenan is sixteen. Lynn is almost sixteen.

"Tara!" says Teenan, as if we knew each other all our lives. Well, _liked _each other all our lives. She nods her head at Matz, who hides me behind me for that while. I like Ysabel because she's nice to my brother, right? Well, the opposite goes for Teenan.

"Hello, Teenan," I greet placidly. I'm only trying to be civil because of my respect for Abel, who's an old man and probably won't quite be able to handle verbal girl wrestling. I turn to the others, "... hi to you guys, too."

"We heard your mother's friend is coming back to Twelve tomorrow!" says Keley enthusiastically.

_How did you hear that? _I wonder, puzzled. "They're coming tomorrow," confirms Matz, since I am silenced.

"And their handsome son?" asks Lynn with an _infuriating _giggle.

Now I remember one of Riegan's letters; just after we left five months ago. He sent to me: _Remember during Snow Day, and you asked me to update you on any progress with the girl thing? Weeell, there's __progress ;D I mean, I don't have a girlfriend. At least, I don't think I do. __I was out with a bunch of friends – the usual bunch, with Ysabel and Fraser and Vins – and my plan was just to hang out with those three, as usual, but then this girl kept talking to me and talking to me and, well, just, yeah._

He had not even told me the name of this girl. I remember asking so many questions after. He ignored the most of them. Whether or not that was on purpose, I decided his life – at least, that portion of his life – wasn't my business. I say, "He's somewhere between taken and … not, actually."

"As long as there's an in between, there's a possibility," says Teenan with a smirk. I'm about to tell Teenan that it would be weird, since she's older, but then I forget that Riegan's two years older than me. So is she.

I shrug. "O-_kay_."

"_You _don't like him, do you, Tara?" asks Keley complacently.

"No," I say immediately. "I don't like him. Like that. He's like a brother to me."

They all seem to exchange looks. Gosh, how I _hate _those looks. "Oh, well, we'll see you soon, then..." says Teenan, leading them all out.

I roll my eyes as they leave. Abel, who's leaning on the counter, smiles. "They're those types who always get on your nerves, eh?" Matz sticks his tongue out at their retreating backs.

"Yeah," I say, crossing my arms.

Abel chuckles a little and points. "I think the candy Riegan likes is in that aisle."

"Thanks, Abel."

"They're a bunch of meanie-pantses," Matz retorts, referring to Teenan, Lynn, and Keley, "they're worse than – than... than Haymitch when he doesn't get his alcohol!"

Abel and I stifle our laughs, because Matz looks very serious. "Oh, yeah," says Abel.

Father walks in just then. "You guys have what you want?" Then, he sees Abel and me smiling, and says, "Did I miss out on the joke?"

"Nothing," I say with a grin.

"We don't have what we want." Matz quickly scoops up an armful of candies by his side. "Now, we do."

Father bursts out laughing and shakes his head, in a "no, young man" kind of way. So, Matz unloads his candy (with a disgruntled look on his face), while I go and get Riegan's little sweet, chewy mints. We leave with a lot of candy, and then Riegan's, too. While we walk home, Matz and I are involved in taste testing some of the stuff that we got. "Try this one," says Matz, handing me a round, green candy. "It's _really _good."

I laugh. "As if. I can't trust you when it comes to food. For all I know, it's -" I take it, anyway, and put it in my mouth, tossing it around with my tongue. The sour tang gets me immediately. "- really sour," I retch.

Matz bursts into giggles. "They're really good, though!"

"Ew," I say, making a face, trying to take the taste out of the candy, "it's so strong!"

Suddenly, Matz' eyes go wide and he doesn't respond. "RIEGAN!" he screams.

"Huh?" I look up, and sure enough, sitting on our front steps, there is Riegan. The scream just comes out of me: "Riegan!"

Riegan stands up and grins. Matz rushes up and throws his arms around him. "RieganRieganRiegan!" he says, spluttering, not knowing what to say.

Matz takes a step back so I can hug him. And I do. I grin, my arms still around him, and ask, "I thought you were coming tomorrow?"

"What, are you complaining?" he teases, "Nah, the only reason we were coming tomorrow was because Dad has work to do – and I asked if I could just go early. I missed you guys." With that, he pulled me to him again. "It's not the same just writing to you," he murmured.

"BREAK IT UP!" Matz yells, "Riegan, Riegan, Riegan – come on! I want to show you -"

Riegan lets go of me, smiling wryly as he lets Matz haul him upstairs. I follow them, and my mind says in ecstasy, _Riegan is here! He's here! He's two feet away! He's three feet – two feet away! I can reach out and hug him and I can hear his voice! _I watch silently, reveling in my bliss. I hadn't realized how much I had missed him. Matz chats away, showing Riegan all of his new things. Mother knocks on the door a minute later: "Oh, am I too late? I was so looking forward to being there to see their surprise!"

She's smiling. I gasp. "You knew, Mother?"

"Of course, I knew," she says, laughing. "Nice to see you again, Riegan." She gives him a hug.

"Nice to see you again, too," Riegan says comradely, "Dad and Mom are excited to see you again tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to see them again," Mother replies warmly. "Have fun, you three, and try not to … break anything."

"Don't give them any ideas," I say wryly, from my position, leaning against the wall.

Matz jokes, "Come on! Let's go _break stuff_!"

Mother rolls her eyes. "Very funny, Matzo."

"Let's have a candy picnic in the woods, instead," Riegan suggests, "so we don't damage anything of worth."

"Aren't you tired?" I ask him, trying to be considerate.

Riegan smiles and shakes his head. "Nah. I came here early so I could spend more time with you guys, not _rest_."

Mother looks between the three of us. "Why don't you two get the candy and wait for Tara? I just need to talk to her." Riegan and Matz obediently go back downstairs, and my first assumption is that I'm in trouble.

"What did I do?" I ask suspiciously.

She laughs. "Nothing! Come, I have something for you."

I follow her as she leads me down to the basement. Typically, I avoid the basement. There, Mother keeps everything that either she doesn't want being seen, or what I don't want to see. It's also a bit of a boring place, so that's a lot of the reason, too. "I went to see Haymitch," she tells me. This isn't out of the ordinary. Haymitch lives next door. "A few weeks ago, and, well... we both know that your weapon isn't the same as mine."

"Yes..." I say slowly, confused.

"Haymitch has been bugging me to show this to you for so long," she says awkwardly, "and I've been having a hard time wondering if you were ready – if _I _was ready – for you to get it..."

"Mother!" I exclaim, laughing, "What is it?"

"If you're going into the woods, well, I think you should be careful," says Mother, reaching behind one of the boxes and removing what I _can't _believe she's holding in her hand. "You probably won't get any game for us, but you'll be able to defend yourself. And I don't mind if you don't come home with game. Just if you come home safe."

"A sword?" I say incredulously. "You're giving me a sword?"

"Haymitch is," she corrected. "I would never give you a weapon."

A little offended, I ask, "Why not?"

"Because you're my little girl." She holds the tip of the sword, pointing the handle for me to take. "Gift from Haymitch."

I'm pretty sure my eyes are tennis balls as I take the sword. I remove it from its sheath and listen, enthralled, as the sword swipes against the leather. I stare at the silver, gleaming even in the dim light of the basement. It feels surprisingly light in my hand, and so natural, too. I gulp, not in nervousness, but in disbelief and excitement. "I should go thank him," I say.

Mother smiles. "Of course." She walks beside me back upstairs. "Use it well, okay? And be back before lunch." She kisses the top of my head before going off into the kitchen to prepare our meal.

I meet the boys outside. "You guys go ahead, I'll be right with you," I say, holding back from bursting into song. I don't really even know why I'm so happy. It's just a sword. Then my thoughts stop short. It's not just a sword! It's mine! The boys' eyes go to the sword in its sheath, but don't ask any questions.

"We'll see you there," says Riegan, pulling Matz into the direction of the Meadow.

I run to the next house over. Haymitch's house is bathed in the smell of flowers; Mother planted several bushes of nice-smelling flora around the house. "To mask the scent of your wine," she joked once. I'm not sure if it _was _a joke, but anyway, his front lawn smells like heaven. The inside is significantly less pleasant, not just because of the stench, but because Haymitch isn't the most phenomenal housekeeper. I knock on the door. "Haymitch?"

"_What_?" a gruff voice demands as the door flings open. He's in a bad mood, and I retreat slightly. "Oh, it's you." His expression softens a little. A lot of people say that Haymitch is crabby and doesn't like many people, but he's just a drunk. I think he has a soft spot for people my age, having been forced to see so many of them killed over the years.

"Thank you!" I breathe, gripping the hilt.

Haymitch actually smiles. "You're welcome. You better use it well, sweetheart; I don't want our lessons to go to waste."

"I promise, I'll use it well," I say eagerly.

He nods his chin toward our house. "I saw Riegan arrived."

"Yeah!" I grin. "He's back. Gale and Lira are coming tomorrow." When he doesn't respond, I fling my arms around him and say, "Thank you so much, Haymitch!" I don't usually hug him. He still smells as usual. (That's why I don't usually hug him.)

He gives me a brief hug and says, rather awkwardly, "Don't you have a date to get going to?"

"It's not a date!" I yell sharply. He looks amused. I stick my tongue out at him playfully and then march away. I wonder if he's privately thinking to himself something like, _she's just like her mother._Strangely enough, I'm not sure if I mind now. Maybe I'm just finding a lot of things to be happy about. I have my own, real, sword...

Riegan's here...

Riegan's here!

My walk switches into a jog as I go into the woods, partly because Riegan is here, and partly because I don't want to be alone too long. I reach "the place", as I now call it in my mind. Riegan and Matz are both sprawled there, looking between the canopies at the clouds. They are both chewing on candy. I sneak up on them and jump out in front of their heads. "Boo!"

They both scream like little girls. Matz sits up and the candy that was resting on his stomach exploded all over. I laugh. "Hi, _girls_."

"Not fair." Matz pouts.

Riegan is laughing, so he's a bit of a good sport. "Very nice, Tara..."

I sit down behind Riegan, leaning against his back. "Matz, hand me my chocolate, please?"

"No!" he says rebelliously, "you scared me."

Riegan snickers and leans over to get it for me. "Ah, sore loser, Matzo..." I thank him and begin eating my chocolate, looking at Matz smugly.

The three of us have a pleasant morning. The first part of it is involved, mostly, with gawking over the sword, after they realized I had it. Matz actually prefers the bow and arrow (Mother taught him a bit the day after they told him about the Hunger Games), and is only halfway impressed with the sword, but Riegan's envious. He even said so. "You're so lucky," he said, holding the hilt in one hand and resting the blade on his palm. He gave me a sideways glance and smiled. "Tutor me?"

I laughed. "Sure."

After that, Matz goes off to practice a little. He won't have any real, moving targets yet, but he can shoot at other things. Riegan and I start dueling with the usual branches.

"Don't take your elbows so far away from your body," I reprimand, parrying, and then lunging forward. He moves backward, but then he finds his footing and retaliates.

This time, his elbows remain fairly close to his body, and bent. His tongue is sticking out in concentration. "Not – fair," he says.

I grin and stop going easy on him, backing him right up into the bushes. He struggles to move away from the tip of my branch. I put it against his neck and smile. "Touche," I say playfully.

And then - "TARA! RIEGAN!"

I drop my branch; our heads turn abruptly in the direction of the yell. "MATZO?" I scream out into the woods.

"HEEEEELP!"

Riegan and I exchange urgent glances. He takes off immediately, but I take my sword and follow soon after. I find Riegan later, standing, frozen, Matz up in a tree. He's holding the bow and arrow, but he's just as still. At the foot of the tree is a large cat. I don't know what it is – I'm not as knowledgeable with the wild as Mother is. "Matzo!" I breathe, in shock. I'm holding the sword but I have no idea what I can do with it. Could I _ever_ kill anything?

"Tara!" Matz whimpers helplessly, "What do I do?"

"Be quiet," Riegan instructs him, and then looking at me. "Climb up on the tree."

"I'm armed," I say shortly, "you get up."

Riegan twirls the branch between his fingers. "I'm armed." He gives me a firm, determined look, as if he's saying, _and I'm not just leaving you on the ground by yourself._

He grips the branch in his palm, looking at the cat. "But why is it going for Matz?" I say quietly, "and it can _hear _us, why isn't it coming?"

Riegan points the stick a little bit to the right of the cat, and I notice it then – it's like a bit of a den. It's a mother protecting its young. I've apparently been born with Aunt Prim's instincts, because right now, I want more than anything to run away with both sides having everyone alive and well. I could never kill the cat, now, knowing it has cubs. I grit my teeth and say mercilessly, "Matz,_shoot_."

"Shoot!" he repeats, as if he, like me, couldn't possibly consider the idea, but he pulls back the string, anyway. He couldn't possibly miss. Not even at his age – he's so close. All I can do is hope that he doesn't shoot _well_, and the animal doesn't die.

I shut my eyes when Matz lets go of the string, and I listen, first to the whip of the arrow, and then to the painful cry of the cat. Tears find themselves through my lids and I let out a little sob. "It's dead?" I choke.

Riegan looks at me worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"No," I say irritably, wiping my tears and not even bothering to wait for Matz. I want to get the candy and _leave_. Riegan helps Matz down, however, and they catch up to me as I stalk back to the place.

"Tara, Tara, did you see?" Matz says enthusiastically. "It just fell over and -"

"Matzo!" I interrupt him, and he looks startled by the intensity of my expression. "Please, _don't _tell me how exactly it died, okay?"

"Tara..." says Riegan slowly, but he doesn't say anything else. We silently pick up the candy, and I feel a little guilty of making the atmosphere all awkward, but again and again I hear the agonized sound of death and my heart gives a frightened little twist. To think I could ever use the sword in that way.

When we finish cleaning up, I say to Riegan quietly, "Can you carry the sword for me? I'll get the candy instead." I don't even want to touch it.

"Sure," he says, looking at me, a bit worried.

Riegan and Matz are talking on the way back, and I trail behind them silently. When we get back, Father and Mother are in the kitchen together. Matz eagerly retells the tale while I sulk in the background. Riegan is somewhere in the middle of it all, still confused. "Tara?" says Father gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say stiffly, shrugging.

After we have lunch, Riegan takes me out for a walk without anyone else. "Tara," he says patiently, "I know you. You didn't like the cat dying, did you?"

"Obviously," I mutter resentfully.

"But what else could we have done? You did the right thing in telling Matz to shoot," he tells me in what he thinks is comforting, and I appreciate it, but this just highlights the fact that I basically killed it.

"It died. Did you _hear _the sound of it?" I whisper to him, agonized. I shut my eyes, because the sound replays in my head.

He puts his hands on my shoulders. "Tara Mellark." He looks me in the eye. "Don't think about it. You'll just feel worse."

"And I should," I say somberly, "because it's dead and it's my fault."

"Tara!" he says sharply, "Don't!"

Riegan hasn't spoken to me so angrily since when we first met, so I'm surprised into obedience. I nod mutely, and then we continue our walk into town. Suddenly I'm thinking about meeting Teenan, Lynn, and Keley and my thoughts spiral downwards into pessimism. "You know some of the girls here thought you were handsome?" I say conversationally.

He gives me a typical Riegan smirk and says, "I _am_."

I snort. "Mhm."

"Glad you agree," he replies cheekily.

"Finn Odair is way better looking," I tease playfully.

"Ooh!" Riegan puts a hand over his heart. "Why don't you just bring a bullet to my head, Miss Tara?"

I shake my head and say, "That would be significantly less enjoyable."

He laughs. "Oh, well. I know he's better looking than I am, anyway. I just like thinking he's not. And maybe it's 'cause he's older and taller." He's just thinking out loud now. "But I do have better muscles."

I snicker and shake my head again, disbelievingly. I pat his shoulder. "You're plenty good looking, Riegan." Then, I pretend to look him over and say, "We-_ell_, you're not ugly, at least."

He rolls his eyes. "Back to these girls – who are they?"

I make a face. "Teenan, Lynn, and Keley. I've told you about them."

"Aww; I was just feeling good about myself, thinking girls thought I was handsome." He snaps his fingers as he swings his arm to the left, a disappointed gesture.

"Speaking of girls thinking you were handsome, what about that girl you never told me about?" I ask, a little cautiously.

Riegan looks at me and shrugs. "Didn't work out. She's still off-limits, after all."

"Oh."

There's silence for a moment.

"But it's okay, though," he adds, filling the gap. He puts his arm around my shoulders and smiles. "I've got you, don't I?"

I raise a brow.

"I have enough female company," he continues a bit hastily. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend."

I grin, and what I say next just comes out of me instinctively: "Good."

* * *

-sleepy-

Good night everyone.

Oh, review please. xD


	14. Just for the Audience

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

The countdown to my birthday is one more day. Gale and Lira arrived late last night; so now all the Hawthornes are here, and my birthday gang is complete. But the day after they arrive, I am awoken by some talking downstairs.

I glance at the clock. It's just after 9, and since we're going into summer, this is a natural waking time for me. I sit up slowly, and listen to the buzzing conversation downstairs, wondering if I'm just imagining it. Then, I open the door, and the sound becomes clearer. Those voices – they're familiar! Where have I heard them before...? (I am _really _slow in the morning.) I take quiet steps over the loft which overlooks the dining room/living room, and I spy three more people I have not been expecting to see.

"Grandmother!" I gasp, and they all look up. I grin, seeing Finn and Annie. "Hi!" How long has it been since I saw them …? About five months, probably, since I saw them before I saw the Hawthornes.

"Good morning," Finn and Riegan say together. I smile a little and run downstairs, first giving Annie and Grandmother their hugs. Then Finn stands up and gives me a brief one, too.

"They told us you wouldn't wake up 'til late," says Finn, "and I was hoping to join Riegan in scaring you awake."

I give Riegan a look. "Maybe I sensed it and woke up."

"Wouldn't be surprised." Riegan grins.

Surrounded by _boys_, I think, and I'm not totally enthusiastic by the idea. Well, maybe I'll invite Elli over. Ooh, Teenan and Lynn and Keley aren't going to be survivable if ever I go into town with Finn and Riegan... "Why didn't you tell me they were coming?" I whip around at Mother.

Mother laughs. "Well, I didn't know 'til late, either, but since I missed out on your surprise when Riegan came early, I thought I'd use this as consolation instead."

"And, you know, since your visit in our District was cut short..." Finn says, sentence trailing off.

I shoot a look at Matz, who was sitting beside Riegan. He fidgets and looks away. "Well, I'm _glad _you're here," I say happily.

"If only Rysnna were here, hm?" Riegan voices, talking more to Finn, than me. It's funny how I've never considered the two of them being close friends. It's not like Gale was ever close friends with Finnick, as far as I know – so he probably wasn't close friends with Annie, either.

Finn nods, and then turns over to our parents. "Unless you're surprising us and she and Johanna are really coming."

"I'd love to meet her," I say, "it'd be nice not to be smothered by boys."

They all exchange looks. Gale says dryly, "So, which one of us is going to send the invitation?"

Mother laughs. "Oh, are we really inviting them, then? I'll do it. Maybe they can even make it in time for Tara's birthday tomorrow..." She goes out of the room to use the phone.

"Come on, Riegan, let's take Finn to the Meadow!" says Matz, jumping up and pulling on Riegan's arm.

"I'll be right out," I say, looking down at my pajamas sheepishly.

I join them outside later, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, because I'm ready to be bombarded by mud. The good thing about their visit's timing is that around summer, everything becomes dry, and the mud-throwing isn't going to be as frequent. But they aren't throwing mud. In fact, Riegan and Finn are wrestling. Matz is watching, confused about who to cheer for. They're pretty much equally skilled: Riegan has a better build, but Finn knows what he's doing.

I sit down beside Matz, watching in amusement as they're both "growling". I giggle. "I think you're supposed to be wrestling with your arms, not your voices. And even with the growling you're not doing very well."

"Grr," says Riegan, intense look fading into a smile when he glances at me. Finn takes this as an advantage and knocks him down. Riegan wriggles helplessly as Matz counts to 5.

"WOO!" yells Matz, jumping up and holding Finn's arm up. "FINN ODAIR, WINNER!"

Riegan gives me a not-at-all threatening "grr" again and pins me down. He accuses, "You distracted me."

"One," I say, trying to push him off, "that was your fault. Two, losers _always _blame other people for their losses. Three, this isn't fair, I don't wrestle!"

"Nope, I don't like losing, and it's still completely your fault," he says teasingly.

"Aw, leave her alone," says Finn with a laugh.

"Sore loser," Matz taunts.

Riegan doesn't let go, but I catch him off guard and shove him off me. I grin and stick my tongue out at him. "Ha-ha, you just got beaten by a girl."

He gives me a lame attempt for a pout and lies down on the flowers. "Everybody's against me today!" Finn lies down with his head to Riegan's, and Matz does the same, so I sit down beside them.

"Nope," I say, propping myself up on my elbow, "you're just not fighting back well enough." Riegan gives me a look and shoves me. I'm laughing as I regain my balance.

"Aw, no," says Matz suddenly, and I look up where he's looking, and I feel tempted to say the same thing, but they've gotten too close. Teenan, Lynn, and Keley, dressed in what they probably think is casual, come nonchalantly in our direction. They're talking to one another as if they haven't already noticed us.

"Great," Riegan mutters under his breath; I've described them well enough for him to recognize.

Finn, from his head on the ground, looks between our expressions and sits up. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Teenan, Keley!" exclaims Lynn, "look who's here!"

I stand up, immediately, and Teenan inches forward. "Tara! Who are your friends...?"

"What are you talking about? You _know _Riegan, you knew he was coming. You said so yesterday. You even called him handsome," says Matz. I can't figure out if he's being truly innocent or if he's purposely outing them.

Teenan scowls at Matz. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well," says Riegan casually, glancing at me and giving me a wink that they can't see. He holds his hand out to Teenan and says, "I'm Riegan Hawthorne, and... you are?"

I stifle my giggles as Teenan takes his hand and shakes it. "Teenan. I go to school with Tara... I haven't seen you around here..."

"No, I'm from Two," says Riegan, letting go, but smile still plastered on his face, "and..." He looks to Finn.

Finn sees what's going on, and for the first time, I see the "seductive" smirk on him. For lack of a better word. "Finn Odair."

"Son of Finnick?" says Keley, gawking, "Finnick Odair?"

He grins. "The one and only."

I bite my lip and bow my head, trying to think about something sad, but the laughs are just ready to explode and they can't be concealed. "Are you _okay_, Tara?" asks Keley condescendingly.

I force my laughs down and say, "Oh, yeah. Totally fine."

The boys taunt them for a little while more while I do my conversation thing, just interrupting whenever necessary, because Teenan, Lynn, and Keley give me dirty looks whenever I start talking. Eventually, though, when lunch time beckons, Teenan goes right out and asks Riegan if he'd like to watch a movie with her sometime, while he's in town. (When, of course, she thinks the rest of us are currently occupied with another, separate topic.)

Riegan pretends to be confused for a moment, and then his mouth opens slightly, mouthing an "oh". He even looks believably embarrassed. "I _am _sorry, Teenan. You are very nice," he says endearingly, "but you see -"

His arm goes around my waist, pulling me toward him and _kissing me_! Right on the lips! This is the first time I've ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression, I guess, but all I can register is Teenan's dumbfounded look in the corner of my eye. I pull away and hide my shock, and I know it's for the audience but my face is burning.

"Oh!" says Teenan, her mouth opening and closing stupidly. "Well, then!" She pulls Lynn and Keley away without another word.

I am gawking wordlessly at Riegan, and he smirks. "Sorry. I'm going to presume your first kiss was just wasted on me."

"Yes!" I say in what I hope is in a resentful fashion, "it was!"

"Sorry," he says again, grinning, "I was enjoying myself so much. It wouldn't have been the same if I didn't. I hadn't considered that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Or that you might want to share it with someone special."

"You haven't kissed a boy yet?" Finn says interestedly.

I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at Riegan. "Now I have."

Matz giggles. "You kissed _Riegan_... wait 'til I tell -"

"You _won't_!" Riegan and I say together.

Matz and Finn exchange looks. "No," I say immediately. "You are _not _telling them!" Matz takes off at a dead sprint toward the house, and Finn blocks our way. Eventually, though, Riegan gets past him and so do I. Just as Matz bursts through the front door into where all our parents are sitting, he is panting, and he yells, "TARA KI -" Riegan's hand goes over his mouth, breathless.

Finn and I catch up, and I cover Finn's mouth. "I won't!" he says, voice muffled. I give him a suspicious look and let go slowly and tentatively.

"Tara what?" asks Father interestedly.

"Tara -" begins Finn, and my hand returns to its previous spot.

"I... killed several dandelions in the Meadow today," I say solemnly.

"Right..." say Mother and Gale together, doubtfully.

Matz bites Riegan's hand, but he doesn't say it. Riegan's gasping, shaking his hand in the air. Matz bites hard, obviously. I hold my breath as Matz says instead, "What's for lunch?"

* * *

;) Didn't expect that, didja? Well... :)

**Review, review, review!**


	15. Death Threats

… I totally just noticed that I have this story listed as "complete" instead of "in-progress", as it should be. P-H-A-I-L.

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

Rysnna Mason could be the prettiest girl I've ever seen. She looks like a little doll, only she's dressed not quite as well, and she's taller than me. (She's a year older.) She doesn't wear fancy, frilly dresses. (I expect Johanna Mason doesn't tolerate that kind of thing.) She has flowing, perfect blonde hair, small blue eyes, and she's slender. I can't help feeling instinctively jealous, but she's shy and withdrawn, so I like her and I forget about how pretty she is.

Her adoptive mother, however, is a different story.

Johanna Mason is just as frightening as I imagined her to be, but – she gets along with Mother and Father, so I get along with her, too. She's also nice enough, so I guess I don't mind.

"Hi, Tara," Rysnna greets me timidly, "happy birthday." Her voice is soft and dreamy, but at the same time, her words are serious and wary.

I smile. "Thanks. Finn and Riegan have told me a lot about you."

"I've heard quite a lot about you, too." She smiles, probably because she sees I'm not hostile, or something. She glances at Riegan, who's losing chess with Finn. (He just learned today.) "Riegan's been talking about you a lot, particularly..."

"He's my best friend," I say easily. I don't think I would have been able to say that this time last year. I smile a little to think about it. I've known him for a year... weird. Rysnna and I make our way over to them.

"Checkmate," Finn announces just as we get there. Riegan throws his head back and groans. I sit down on the armrest of his chair and pat him on the shoulder.

I look over at Rysnna. "He's been losing everything lately."

"You're all conspiring against me."

Rysnna laughs a little. "Riegan, you still have as big an ego as when we were younger, after all..."

"When did you guys meet?" asks Matz. He knows Riegan met Finn when he was seven, and Finn met Rysnna when he was about eight.

"We were..." Riegan looks to Rysnna.

"It was just a few years ago. We were ten," Rysnna replies promptly.

"Well, look at this cozy little get together," says Johanna, moving toward us. "Is this the kids of victors club?"

"Children of Warriors, actually," Finn corrects her with his Finnick smirk, glancing at me, "because Riegan counts in our club and none of his parents were victors."

Johanna snickers. "Oh, really?"

"_We are not the killing machines our parents were_," Riegan adds, grinning.

"Seriously?" Lira says wryly. "We're not _all _killing machines."

"No, but we have at least one who is," Matz says, actually cheerfully, "or was."

Mother looks between Gale and Father. "Is it me, or are they talking about this _way _too casually?"

The adults all laugh a little. I say conversationally, "Yep, but it's better than running around screaming about it, yes?"

"... good point," she says, but she doesn't look too convinced.

"Let's go outside," Rysnna suggests. "You all can show Finn and me around."

Riegan and I exchange looks, and I know what he's thinking. What if we come across Teenan, Lynn, and Keley again? I'm actually not quite sure if I want a repeat of what happened yesterday... No! Of course I don't. I say hesitantly, "Sure."

Matz skips ahead of us as we walk in a group into town. Riegan, even though he doesn't live here, joins me in pointing out little shops and places that we have friends in. Hazelle's house, the candy place, the factory where we make medicines, the school. Inevitably, of course, we come across friends who greet Riegan, Matz, and me, then we introduce Finn and Rysnna, and they greet me happy birthday, tell me that they're looking forward to my birthday dinner. Riegan and I are kind of building a radar for _them_, though.

But, what can we do?

Even though we are being careful, Matz bursts into the toy store, and – can you believe it? They are there. I only have enough time to think about what on _earth _they're doing in the toy store before they wave at us. Lynn and Keley more than Teenan. I imagine she's still thinking violent thoughts about either Riegan or me.

"Another new friend," says Lynn, looking at Rysnna, and she looks a little hateful. I can imagine why. Rysnna _is _worth being jealous of.

"This is Rysnna Mason," I introduce awkwardly.

"Another _victor _kid," says Teenan scathingly, shooting Riegan a look. If those could kill.

"Um -" I'm about to suggest we go, but then, they cut me off.

Teenan says, "It's your birthday today, isn't it? That's why they're all coming to visit."

"Er." I scratch the back of my neck and nod.

"You're having a dinner?" Keley says.

No. They _cannot _be doing this to me. There is no polite way for me to say I can't let them come. Keley knows that half of our class is coming to my house tonight.

"Uh. Well." I open my mouth and pause, wondering what to say. "Yeah, I guess."

"Can we come?" says Lynn innocently.

Is there not a rule of etiquette that you can't invite yourself over? I chew the inside of my cheek and say, "Well, I... um..."

"Only close friends and family," says Riegan smoothly, "this year."

"What are you talking about?" asks Keley. She begins listing off the people in our class who she heard are coming, and I'm tempted to slap her.

"Yeah, my parents told me to keep it pretty limited to that," I say stiffly. "We have to go. We were just here to show Finn and Rysnna around for a while."

I'm stomping as we walk back. "You don't think they're going to come?" asks Rysnna, who's smart and probably got that they weren't very friendly people.

"They might!" I groan, "and then I won't be able to shoo them away. Mother and Father will think it's rude. Ugh. Great. This is going to be a lovely birthday if they do come..."

During dinner, I'm wearing my typical yellow, with a ruffled white skirt. I'm rushing around greeting everyone as they greet _me _happy birthday, giving me gifts. I've received lots of clothes, which tells you that I'm definitely a teen now. Riegan, however, keeps up with his flower thing and gives me a bouquet of yellow and white daisies, complete with his brotherly kiss on the cheek. "Matches your dress," he says with a smile.

I admire the flowers and say, "Thanks."

He pulls one out of the bouquet and inserts it behind my ear. "There we go. Now your look is complete." He looks around. "So. Any sign of them?"

"Not yet," I say grimly.

"Be optimistic," he reproaches me, "they might not -"

"You'll jinx it!" I say urgently.

Riegan just laughs. "Yeah. Right. Okay. Well, I'm going to see the cake..."

"Translation: you're going to try and sneak a few bites before I blow out my candles."

"Shut up. No, I'm not. I have more respect for your dad's work than that..." he says innocently, whisking off to the kitchen.

So, I go off to stand beside Finn at the door. He's leaning against the wall, eating ice cream and looking out the window kind of wistfully. "Hey, daydreamer," I say, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He smiles at me. "Hi, birthday girl."

"Penny for your thoughts?" I ask.

"They weren't anything of interest." He laughs. "How are you enjoying your birthday so far?"

I grin. "I'm loving it. I'm just hoping they don't show up..."

"I'll be your birthday party guard for you," he says. "I'll make sure they don't get in."

"Thanks." I laugh. Rysnna and Elli, who have found that they like each others' company, come over to us. "Hey."

Rysnna says, "You have such nice friends, Tara. They've all said hi and asked me if District Twelve was treating me well, and it definitely is!"

I grin. "I'm glad you like it."

"They're coming, Tara," Finn says suddenly, eyes directed to the window. I gasp and move beside him, pressing my nose against the glass. Sure enough, all even carrying birthday boxes, _they _are approaching down the street. I groan and cross my arms, waiting at the door.

"This cannot go well," I mutter.

When they knock on the door, I open it after a short pause. All three of them are beaming and it's infuriating. "Happy birthday, Tara!" they chorus. I want to punch them.

I force a pleasant, birthday-girl-smile, and say, "Thank you." They're about to hand me the gifts, and both for fear they'll explode and also that I just don't want to touch them, I say, "Oh, thanks - I put my gifts on that table. Over there."

They start conversation with others, and I'm keeping a wary eye on them as they do, until Father comes in (face splattered with blue, yellow, and pink frosting) and announces that dinner's ready. So, we go right outside to the tables that are set up in our backyard for the guests. To avoid the "I'll-sit-with-Tara-since-it's-her-birthday" phenomenon, I have to go around talking to everyone before I actually settle at my table. One table contains Finn, Rysnna, Matz, Elli, and Riegan. There's a space between Finn and Riegan, and I know who it's meant for, but I just keep thinking darkly, because _they _have not yet found a way to ruin my day and I know they will, whether or not they have a plan to.

After a thorough going-through again of all my guests, I hurry over to my friends and sit down tiredly in my spot. "Don't worry about it," says Riegan, the same time Finn tells me that it'll be okay. I try not to give them dirty looks because I'm in a bad mood - too much of a bad mood for my birthday. Around me, they're all talking cheerfully, and inside my head, there's an alarm blaring, telling me to run away before they can do something wrong!

... as per usual, I'm overreacting.

I sigh and try to get into the conversation. As I do, _they _spin their chairs around from the nearest table and insert it between ours. I grit my teeth. There we go. "So, Tara," says Teenan, "how long have you guys been dating?"

Oh, _great_.

"Er, well..." I say slowly.

"Who?" asks Elli, raising a brow.

"Riegan and Tara, of course," Keley replies wickedly.

"What?" Rysnna looks baffled.

"They _kissed_, yesterday," Lynn explains nonchalantly. One of these days, I'm actually going to pick up that sword again and use it.

"You kissed?" repeats Rysnna in shock.

"YOU KISSED RIEGAN HAWTHORNE?" Elli _yells_. Really? Apparently my sword might have more than one victim.

Almost the _entire _backyard just turned around and looked at us. I'm pretty sure Riegan and I are both burning. We're also not denying it, which confirms it in everyone's mind. Somewhere between that time, the adults have stood up and they're looking at Riegan and me curiously. "You kissed him?" says Lira again, brow raised.

I exchange awkward looks with him. "Well, no, not exactly..." I see the look on Teenan, Lynn, and Keley's face, though, so I say, "Um. He kissed _me_."

"Tara!" he says, coloring even more.

"But it wasn't like that!" I say hastily.

"I didn't kiss her because I _liked _her," Riegan continues.

"Oh!" says Teenan coolly, with fake surprise. "_Why _did you, then, _Riegan_?"

_Silence_.

"Come on, let's blow out your candles, Tara," Father prompts, saving the day. That's why they were all standing up.

I stand behind the cake, which is still a garden. It's a single-layer, so it looks like the meadow, but there are two swords making a cross through it. I actually quite like it, even though I'm not really using my sword anymore. Guiltily, I remember that I had promised Haymitch I would use it well. After I blow out the candles and everyone makes to get their slice, though, Teenan comes up to me and says, "So, _why _did he kiss you again?"

I'm at a loss for words. Riegan steps beside me and says, "Look, we were doing it to tease you, okay? Just _leave it_."

Instead of scolding like I expected them to, our parents look almost _disappointed_. So do many of our guests. Something inside me is roaring, wishing that I could hit something. "I see," says Teenan, visibly let down because Mother or Father or Gale or Lira aren't pouncing on us. Undoubtedly, she was trying to get us in trouble. I can barely care, though. They're all looking as if they wished Riegan kissed me because he likes me. Honestly! Then, she gives me a pleasant wiggle of the fingers in farewell. "Well, see you around, Tara. Riegan."

And so, they leave.

I am seriously going to _hurt something_.

So, I give Riegan a punch in the arm. "What was that for?" he asks me, aghast.

"I needed to punch something. You were the nearest thing," I reply, relieved.

He actually snickers a little but cuts it off. I feel a rush of gratefulness to have him as a friend - Elli would have gone ballistic on me, for example. Matz would have ran away yelling. Finn and Rysnna would be confused. Not that I could punch them in the first place. We stand by the door as all of our guests leave - a fair few bring up the stupid kiss, asking more questions about it. I do my best to wave it off and pass it off as nothing (it _is _nothing) and then thank them for coming and the gifts and everything. Then they leave, and I'm rewarded momentary relief until the next person comes along and talks to me about it again.

When it's just us, the Hawthornes, and the Odairs, Mother and Father raise the topic. "Explain," they say together, looking at Riegan and me like we've committed crimes.

"Well, Teenan, Lynn, and Keley aren't very _agreeable _people," I say, sounding a lot like Ysabel.

"And we were teasing them," says Finn awkwardly.

Matz, bless his naive little heart, corrects him. "Flirting."

"You were flirting with them?" Annie exclaims, giving her son an amazed look.

"Riegan was doing it too!"

"Thanks, buddy, appreciate it."

"But why did you kiss Tara?" Gale demands.

Riegan gives a little sound of frustration. "Because Teenan asked me out and I was getting ahead of myself, okay?"

"O...kay," says Gale slowly.

"Your first kiss was a fake one?" says Mother sadly. Hers was, too. I don't know what she's worrying about. Oh, _right_, she ended up marrying him.

"That was your first kiss?" Lira cries, scandalized. "Wasted on Riegan?"

"Hey!" Riegan interrupts, "My kisses aren't _wastes_. I'm sure it was pleasurable." He looks at me as if I'm supposed to give testimony to that.

I sigh. "It's all right, okay? I just want to forget about it." I take the flower out of my hair and toss it onto the couch, avoiding Riegan's undoubtedly confused and hurt eyes - it was his gift, after all. "Can we just... go clean up?"

When all the tables have been folded up, all the tents taken down, all the plates cleaned, I escape to the swing in the backyard. I twirl the stems of a primrose and a daisy between my fingers, mulling over recent events morosely. The sky is a periwinkle leaning toward gray, and it would be "calm before the storm" if there were any clouds. Dusk holds its breath. I think wistfully of Four and the year-long breeze they have there. The air is dry here, and it is a reminder of all the faces I saw today. Faces of expectation and disappointment - all expressions that I don't understand. Riegan was, and is, and will always be, just Riegan. My best friend, and nothing more.

A little voice in my head says, as my eyes fall onto the daisy that I had simply abandoned earlier. I picked it up once I had finished doing the dishes and wondered if Riegan must have been insulted.

"Hey there, Miss Tara."

I turn around and look up at Riegan with a smile. "Hi." Him, of all people, I can expect _not _to bring up that topic. He's Riegan. Even if he weren't the other victim, he still wouldn't have chosen to talk about it. Because he's Riegan.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asks. "How are you liking being 14?"

I say thoughtfully, "You were this old when I met you. That's a strange thought."

He grins. "Can you believe it's been a year? I don't know about you, but it more feels like I've known you for _way _longer."

"It's the same for me," I agree. I look up at him curiously, following him with my eyes as he sits down beside me. "I'm just wondering – but _would _you talk about me as a best friend? I told Rysnna you were mine." The words sound funny when I say them. _You. Mine._ I shake the thought out of my head.

"You're thinking that just now?" he asks, crossing his arms, giving me an amused look. "I started calling you my best friend _ages _ago."

I grin sheepishly. "Yeah, well."

"Well, then, best buddy, I was just going to tell you. Matz invited me over for a boy sleepover tonight, so mind you stay out of our way," he says.

"Oh, great." I sigh dramatically. "It's going to be really warm tonight... I'll have to lock my windows and my door."

He grins. "Shame. We had such a good prank idea, too."

I roll my eyes. "Don't you even _think _about it, Riegan Hawthorne, or I am going to murder you in your sleep."

He smiles his smile, not saying anything. I kick off and swing a little, still holding the flowers. Then, after a few moments pause, he says softly, proving how in tune he is with what I'm thinking and feeling: "I'll bet that's the _least _true of the death threats you've thought about today, Miss Mellark."

* * *

_**Review, please!**_


	16. So She Dances

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

"Tara..."

"... no. Sleepy."

"Tara!"

"Go away..."

"TARA!"

My eyes go open immediately, but they are narrow because I see that Matz is leaning over my bed. And then they soften when I see that his eyes are tensed. "What's wrong, Matzo? This better be _really _bad." I rub my eyes as I'm sitting up.

"Come..." He leads me out of my room, and then into his.

So, I look around. It's still very ordinary; Matz' room gets all the moonlight, so his camouflage-themed room is grayish at night. Everything's all there, as usual, except for the air mattress that's sitting beside Matz' bed. On it, there is a restless brown-haired boy, right in the beam of light. Upon closer inspection, he is sweating and murmuring unintelligible words... and... he is crying... "He's been doing that all night," Matz whispers, "he woke me up. I didn't know if I should wake_ him_ up..."

I bend down beside Riegan and whisper, "Riegan..." Kind of instinctively, I brush away the mat of hair that's on his sweaty forehead, and then I shake his shoulder slightly. "Wake up, buddy."

His eyes are wild and frightened when they open. Although when they see me his breathing relaxes, still his eyes remain locked on mine for a few more moments. During those few moments, I try and wipe away the tears with my finger. He looks to Matz once he's recovered, and then says in relief, "Oh. You're alive."

I smile a little, sitting backward. "Mhm. Want to talk about it?"

"I ..." He pauses, sitting up slightly, putting his palms behind him. "I don't remember it very well."

"You're okay?" I murmur. That's the first time I've seen him cry, and the most vulnerable I've ever seen him.

He nods. "Yeah. Just... nightmare." He settles back down, and Matz walks over to his own bed.

"Tara?" Matz whispers, leaning on his elbow to look at me. Riegan looks up at Matz, then at me. I give Matz a questioning look, and he says, "Can you sing the lullaby for me, please?"

Matz knows perfectly well I don't sing, but _I _also know that he can't go back to sleep in the middle of the night unless he's sleeping beside our parents, or he's read a story or sang a song. He may be 8 – 8 ½, he would say – but he still needs those little things. In fact, he's still hugging Dragon tightly as we speak.

I sigh and sit at the edge of his bed, and then start singing. "_Deep in the meadow, under the willow..._"

You'd think that I would love to sing, or that I inherited Mother's flawless voice, but I didn't. I know it and nobody's ever bothered to correct me (truthfully). I don't mind, and also, I know I'm not a_horrible _singer. The thing is, I've been raised listening to perfect songs, and it doesn't satisfy me when I hear mediocre ones coming out of my mouth. It embarrasses me because any person I would sing to has heard Mother sing, and when they listen to me sing, it's probably not the twin voice they expected.

Even before I finish the song, which is really short, Matz' eyes are fluttering closed. I smile and give him a kiss on the forehead, just like Mother and Father do. I look at Riegan, and his eyes are still open. He yawns, pulling the blanket to his chin, and says sleepily, "... sounds … just like your Mother."

I smile, and shake my head disbelievingly. "Of course _you _think so."

...

"Whoa!"

This is my reaction when I verse Finn Odair in a sword fight. Against my expectations, he is skilled and he has me on my toes. He gives me a grin before his face molds back into his usual shy mask. My tongue is sticking out in concentration, because it is the only challenge I've had in this sort of thing aside from Haymitch, and even he tends to treat me with some mercy.

I have been 14 for just over a week. Rysnna is going home tomorrow, unfortunately, but she's already shared her email address with Matz and me. As always, Riegan and his family are staying here for the month. The Odairs and Grandmother are staying here for another week.

We are now beginning the summer months. The dandelions are all just pathetic little stems, and I miss the petite yellow petals, or the fluffy white seeds that I wished on all spring. Still, the bouquet Riegan gave me a week ago still lives on in a vase next to my bed, and – as promised, so do the "deathless" flowers that hang on my wall, have hung there for a year, and will continue to hang in front of my bed so long as I live. I hope. So – despite the heat, humidity, and lack of pretty in the world at the moment, I am fairly cheerful.

I try and strike up conversation to distract Finn. "So. Tell me what you know about your dad."

"Fascinating diversion tactic," he comments, in an equally colloquial tone, "but anyway... they tell me he looked a lot like me."

"They tell me he looked very handsome."

He gives me the Finnick smirk. "Exactly." He _knows _he could make half the girls in Panem fall head over heels for him, nor does he really want to, which makes Finn a refreshing spirit to have around. I tend to avoid his eyes for the very reason that I really don't want to think of him that way. It's weird. He's three years older than me, and that feels _old_ when I think of it like that, but it's not too much older. Also, he's Finn. So it's weird.

I laugh and say, "Don't do cocky. It's not your thing."

"Right." He grins. "Well, he was a brave man, that's what Mother tells me. And I know he is."

"What do they tell you?"

This distracts him enough so I get his rib. He just skitters backward and we continue. "That he did everything for my mother, to protect her... how much he loved her, even though he could have had anyone. Anyone who was... richer, saner – at the time. He loved her and he never stopped loving her. I admire that particularly."

How Finn talks of his father, like he was a stranger. I feel so selfish, but so grateful, at the moment, for my own father, who cares for me and loves me and has never been _not _there. Mother usually describes him as dependable, and has never let her down – all criteria for what makes him the perfect Daddy. Finnick Odair – what does Finn know about him? He will never _truly _know him. The image that Finn has of him is tattered with layers of biases and false memories. Finn doesn't have the moments I do. The kissing of the boo-boos, the bedtime stories, the tickle attacks. I feel sorry for him.

"Don't feel sorry for me," says Finn, surprising me and guessing what I'm thinking. "I mean, it's terrible to say, obviously, but I can't miss someone I've never met."

When he gets me, I put down my branch and put a hand in my pocket. "But I know what's missing in your life and I wish it wasn't... missing."

Finn shrugs too carelessly for my liking. He says awkwardly, "Well, I have my mother..."

"That's like saying, 'I have my left leg, why do I need my right?'" I say dryly.

He laughs a little. "Your dad doesn't have one of his legs..."

"Yeah, but – no – well – sort of," I say. Then I shake my head. Obviously, my argument isn't working the way I wanted it to.

"Your turn. Tell me 'bout your parents."

I raise a brow. "You already _know _my parents."

"Tell me what I don't know, then." He pauses. "Or tell me about what it's like to be the daughter of the greats, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

"I'm the daughter of Peeta and Katniss Mellark, not Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark," I correct him. "There's been a difference."

"Okay. Tell me about that." I roll my eyes, because Finn has already _heard _this part of the story. He knows it. So he amends, "Okay... tell me... which one you prefer."

I'm about to spit out that it's an impossible question to answer, that one, but a voice in my head reminds me, _what does Finn know? _So I say, "I can't choose that." I sit down, so he sits cross-legged in front of me. "What else do you have in mind? - no, wait. I change my mind. Too much talk about my parents. I don't _like _talking about my parents, Finn. Ask me about something else!"

"Riegan." He gives me a piercing look.

"Really? Of all the other topics?"

Finn smiles. "Of course." Then he gives me an innocent look. "Are you saying... that Riegan is a taboo topic...? What is there to talk about that would... upset you?"

I cross my arms and exhale heavily. I love Riegan (_not in that way_), but I've had enough of him. "What do you want to know?"

"There's a fine line between friend, almost like a brother, and … something more," he says cautiously. He's always cautious, so it's not out of the ordinary. "For example, _we _are on that more toward the friend side, and we both know it." He looks up at me. "Correct?"

"Correct," I reply unhesitatingly. I thought boys were supposed to be _touchy _about subjects like this. Why do I befriend the ones that aren't?

"Whereas Riegan..."

"Is exactly the same," I interrupt.

"He kisses you. Quite often."

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "On the cheek! And that doesn't mean anything." I scoot forward and give _him _a kiss on the cheek. "See? That's acceptable."

"He kissed you on the lips," he tells me, as if I _didn't already know_.

I toss my head back. "Finn, you are usually such a nice person. Why are you being so insufferable?"

Finn smiles. "Okay, okay. Change of topic. Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Chocolate," I reply instantly. "Or chocolate _and _vanilla."

"Hm." I watch him ponder for a moment, and then he shrugs. "All right, that's all I've got."

I sigh and lean back tiredly. If only conversation were easy with everyone. I like Finn enough, but we just don't have enough to talk about. I try and force something out of me to fill the confused silence, but there's nothing I can say without getting a baffled look, no joke I can try without getting a blank expression in return. And of course, no matter how terribly we converse, Finn can still guess what I'm thinking, because he says, "See? This is what separates Riegan and me – he can talk to you way better."

"Finn..." I say exasperatedly.

He gives me a shrug. "It's facts. Come on, Tara, don't lie to me. I know you think whenever we have an awkward silence how different it is with Riegan."

"He's my best friend."

"Yeah, I've heard that one before."

I give him a look first, before standing up. "Come on... they'll probably be wondering where we are." I glance back at him as we're walking, and I expect him to apologize for turning the conversation where it went, but he doesn't. Oh, well.

"Where've you been?" Riegan asks cheerfully as we walk through the door. He is sitting with Matz and Rysnna at our dinner table, eating breakfast.

I ignore the question and sit down beside him. "Why are you having breakfast here?"

"I asked you first."

Finn takes his seat beside Matz and replies, "Meadow. We were sword fighting."

Riegan looks between the two of us. "Couldn't wait for us to get up? And why so early all of the sudden, Tara? You're usually still sleeping at this time."

I give him a dirty look. "Why so many questions?"

"Whoa," he says, turning back to the others, and I can tell he's laughing at me on the inside. "Someone's a Little Miss Cranky."

I'm having one of those days during which anything anyone says against me will make me even more moody. I push my chair away from the table and stalk upstairs. No, it hasn't been a good birthday month...

… _nah, that's just you in the morning, Tara …_

… _maybe. Or maybe it's because you're still dealing with your stupid I'm-not-Katniss thing._

_Shut up._

_I need a hobby._

...

"... be careful ..."

I giggle. "Mother! We'll take care of him."

So, in a little sending-off, the "Children of Warriors" (might as well get used to calling them all that) are going on a horseback riding trip on the farm just out of town. Matz had to throw a tantrum to convince Mother that he should come, and he was just about to lose, but Rysnna and Finn (the responsible ones, in Mother's eyes) intervened. So, Matz sits on a brown-and-white pony, face alight with _I am so going to be reckless_.

"Finn, Rysnna, _please _take care of him," says Mother, pretty much ignoring me. I smile a little, meeting Riegan's amused grin.

Finn and Rysnna laugh. Rysnna says sweetly, "Of course, Mrs. Mellark." All the others – Riegan, Matz, Finn – they call the parents by their first names. Rysnna, however, stubbornly calls the adults by their surnames instead. It's kind of old fashioned. I don't call anybody by their last name; not really. Except when talking about people like President Paylor or something.

Finn nods. "Don't worry about it."

So, we set off down the trails. I haven't been on a horse since I was about nine. Riegan, for some reason, is pretty good at horseback riding. Finn can count with his fingers how many times he's been on a horse. Rysnna's been on a horse once every few years. Matz has never been on a horse – which adds to my mother's worry. Riegan's flaunting his skill, sitting straight in the saddle and all that jazz.

"Why do _you _go on a horse in District Two?" asks Rysnna. "Defenses, nuclear weapons, mining. Really?"

Riegan grins. "Just because I come from Two doesn't mean I can't be good at anything else." He nods his chin toward Matz. "Matzo here isn't a doctor. Peeta and Katniss weren't even coal miners back when Twelve did that thing. And as far as I can remember, Rysnna, you can't even handle an ax."

"So are _you _a doctor, Tara?" Finn inquires, turning around to look at me. Rysnna just scoffs at Riegan.

I shake my head. "Nah. Especially not when you think about who my grandmother is."

"They underestimate your grandmother," Finn tells me, "they think she's old and her ways are outdated."

"'They'?" I repeat indignantly.

Finn nods. "Some of the younger people at the hospital. I hear them when I'm there."

"Grandmother's the bestest doctor in Panem," says Matz cheerfully, loyal to her and her cookies even though he's never really known her.

Matz rides in front, followed by Riegan, Rysnna, me, and then Finn. Finn eventually brings his horse up beside mine and starts talking to me about Grandmother, while the others stay quiet, just listening. Naturally, when the inescapable silence comes between us, he says, "You're not still mad at me for this morning, are you?"

"No. That was the morning. I'm fine."

Maybe that was too abrupt.

Finn looks at me warily. "Really?"

I shrug. "Really, Finn."

"I don't believe you."

The voice inside my head growls at him, _for Pete's sake, let it go! _I say, with less of a mean ring to it, "Just let it go, Finn." Why isn't he just forgetting about it?

"So, it's not okay."

"Finn!"

Riegan interrupts, "Let it go, Finn, whatever it is."

Finn looks startled, since Riegan's two horses ahead of us and hasn't been contributing to conversation. He nods. "Yeah."

I wonder if Mother ever thought Father was tiresome. Or if she constantly wished that it were Gale instead of him. Or thinking, _why doesn't Father do so and so? Gale does. _Or … or … or. Surely, Father was tolerable in some way or the other.

Finn reaches up and steals some branches from the trees, and then hands one to me. "Think Katniss would be upset if we had a sword fight on horseback?"

"Yes." I smile. "But what's your point?"

Riding ahead, the makeshift swords clash against one another while there's a somewhat accelerated sound of clip-clopping beneath us. I think the fact that we're on a horse takes more of a toll on Finn, though, because I knock his sword out of his hand after a few. He relies on his feet; it helps him in a sword fight. So, I win. I give him a smug little smile as we watch the branch, now fallen in the mud, get further and further away from us.

The trail in the forest leads out to nothing but grass, as far as the eye can see. It is a clump of hills just outside of District Twelve. Once upon a time, long ago, there was a fence that surrounded the forest. Supposedly, it was electrified to keep the wild animals out, but, now, of course, we know that it was truly meant to keep the people in. Now, there is no fence. Instead, the woods open up into the world. The beautiful world of no borders. If I kept on moving forward on and on, I would find the remains of the mysterious District Thirteen – beneath the remains, however, is another, surviving civilization. Still in isolation, as it had been over a century ago.

What a world my mother lived in. What a world _I _am living in.

"There used to be a fence here," Matz says quietly to me, "right?"

I nod. "Yep."

"There used to be another District. There." Matz looks up. "... real or not real?"

"Not real. It's still there. Sort of." I focus my eyes on the horizon, like if I keep looking at it, my eyes will see what is beyond it – and I will see District Thirteen.

"Wouldn't it be cool," Riegan says dreamily, "if we just kept riding and riding, and we went to District Thirteen?"

I turn my head to him, and for a frightening moment I consider it. "Depends on your definition of _cool_."

"Where's your adventurous spirit, Miss Tara?" he asks breathlessly, trotting onward, and I feel tempted to ride up to him and seize him by the arm, to tell him to stop going. But that's ridiculous; I know he won't go. "Just think about it! The adventures!"

"I've heard of our parents' adventures," says Finn, a little sadly, "I don't like what came of it."

Good. So he's not _entirely _emotionless; he does feel some remorse of his father's death. Riegan looks at them disbelievingly, and then looks to me. "I'm just saying..."

"Adventures," I repeat, tearing my eyes away from the horizon and into Riegan's. "I think my family's had enough of that for another generation."

He trots toward my horse and says, "You know, your parents told you about the Hunger Games to make you braver. I'm not really considering going to District Thirteen. I just thought it would be cool."

"When it comes to you, I can never be too sure," I say, a bit coolly.

Riegan studies me. "Are you mad at me?"

Ugh.

"No."

He takes it, and I can almost hear his logic working: _I don't want her to be mad at me, she says she's not mad at me, I won't complain_. He turns away and back to the "outside". "So. You guys want to let the horses graze? We can play tag."

And so, we play tag.

We're at a distinctly unfair levels. Riegan and Finn have long legs. Riegan's born to run. Rysnna is a hesitant runner and she doesn't like breathing heavily. I'm just mediocre. Matz is... eight. So, after we're all huffing and puffing, we lie down in a circle, our heads to each other. Me, Riegan, Rysnna, Matz, Finn. _Children of Warriors_.

The clouds are white and fluffy and they are shaped like dogs, alligators, or fishes. They move along swiftly, like they have somewhere to get to. We all stare up at the sky for a long moment – and that is saying something, since Matz is among our group. None of us fidgeted. I could tell, because I could hear mockingjays, and nothing else.

"Hey, Tara," whispers Matz.

"Yeah?"

"Sing for us."

Not that again. "No." I sit up and look at our circle. Rysnna starts singing softly, instead. I don't recognize the song, but I like her voice, and the song, so I'm paying close attention to the tune and the lyrics, so I can hum when a familiar part of the song comes along.

_A waltz when she walks in the room  
She pulls back the hair from her face  
She turns to the window to sway in the moonlight  
Even her shadow has grace_

"Finn," Riegan whispers, so as to not interrupt Rysnna's singing, "teach Tara how to waltz."

I raise a brow at Finn, saying unspoken words. _You can waltz?_

_A waltz for the girl out of reach  
__She lifts her hands up to the sky  
__She moves with the music  
__The song is her lover  
__The melody's making her cry_

Finn nods at me and takes me up in his arms, counting silently to Rysnna's song. I don't step on his feet, or trip, because his grip on me is firm, but not hard. I realize my tongue is sticking out in concentration and try not to, since I look stupid, but I just end up doing it again.

_So she dances,  
__in and out of the crowd like a glance  
__This romance is  
__From afar, calling me silently..._

I try not to make a face. The lyrics took a turn for the worse, here. I grin at Finn and pull away. I raise my hands over my head like a ballerina and spin around like I know what I'm doing. Laughing at my silly face, Rysnna stops singing.

"My turn, my turn!" Matz calls out, dancing with me. I burst out laughing, because we're stepping on our feet and grace is nowhere to be found. Rysnna continues:

_A waltz for the chance I should take  
__But how will I know where to start?  
__She's spinning between constellations and dreams  
__Her rhythm is my beating heart_

I pick it up for her, singing again – lyrics are easy for me to remember, and I like this one. "_So she dances, in and out of the crowd like a glance_..."

When I finish, Rysnna doesn't keep on going. She looks to Riegan. "You know the song, too. You sing."

I'm expecting him to burst out laughing and shake his head, saying that he doesn't sing (since I've assumed he doesn't), but then he stands up and steals me from Matz. He spins me around and around, not quite waltzing, and then – oh, my goodness – he begins to sing.

_I can't keep on watching forever  
__I'd give up this view just to tell her..._

_When I close my eyes, I can see  
__The spotlights are bright on you and me  
__We've got the floor,  
__and you're in my arms.  
__How could I ask for more?_

Just that verse, he sings. I grit my teeth, and then I sing along with Rysnna for the last part of the song, but when we finish, I pull away from Riegan. He gives me a cheeky grin, and then bows low. I roll my eyes and curtsy, just to play along, but I'm seriously hating how every single moment turns into... _that_.

"That was a lovely waltz," says Finn, laughing.

And for the first time, I do believe Mr. Finn Odair has made my Moment of Awkward into something that I can laugh at:

"Better than yours!" Riegan retorts playfully, "come on, Finn, dance with me!"

"No, no, no, no, no -" But Riegan forcefully takes him anyway, and they begin "waltzing." Rysnna, Matz, and I are beside ourselves with laughter.

Riegan's the one who's spinning him around (again, it doesn't really classify as a waltz), so I call out: "Hey, Finn, remember: the male is the one who leads!"

"No, no, no, no, no!"

* * *

Hi guys. :)

I was just about to give up on this chapter and say, "You know what? I've been updating every day since this came out, and it was intended to be just a one-shot. They won't mind if I miss a day, they're all awesome like that" - but! I know I couldn't go through the school day with that kind of guilt, so here you are.

So this chapter's kind of like what Alex Day calls a "bad fanfiction" in which the writer just says, "and then they did this, and then they did that." BUT WE LIKE FILLER CHAPTERS, NO? :)

Side note – I have this dislike for song fics. I won't toss one aside, but I usually don't tend to actually read the lyrics. I just skip the little verses and then I read the actual writing, but I was inspired. Sort of.

Review, even if you hate. Just tell me why you hate! :D


	17. Haymitch

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

I'm deciding that I'm going to dedicate this day to Elli, because I miss her, and with Rysnna gone, I really need female-of-my-age-companionship. Elli is really the only person who can give that to me, so I invite her over. She gives me her usual hug when she walks into the door, and then her eyes flash left and right, as if she's looking for something. "What are you looking for?" I ask.

"I thought Riegan and Finn would be here," she explains.

I nod. "They're upstairs with Matz, Gale, and Father."

"Oh! So Lira and Annie must be here?" Elli asks cheerfully.

"Mhm. They're outside."

Elli skips along beside me as we begin to walk outside. "Question. You're going to hate me for it."

I grin ruefully. "I'll try not to..."

"Does Finn have a girlfriend?"

"Elli!" I stare at her, jaw dropped. "_Elli_!"

She laughs. "I'm not interested, I'm just wondering. He's a pretty kind of boy. I just want to know if it works."

"It works?" I repeat.

"Um, yes." She looks a little embarrassed. "His face."

I giggle. "Um, well, as far as I know... I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a girlfriend. And don't let Riegan hear that you think Finn's good-looking. He's confident that he looks as good-looking as Finn."

"_You _don't think so?" Elli asks me, as we walk outside. Lira, Annie, and Mother look up at us and I'm embarrassed to answer now.

"Well, I mean, he is, sort of. But I know Finn's... better..." I say awkwardly.

Annie peers around Lira and asks, "Finn's better at what?"

"Looking nice," Elli replies for me.

The mothers laugh. Mother looks at Lira and Annie and nods solemnly. "I think it's true."

"Finn has prettier eyes," Elli says dreamily. I smack her instinctively. Not sure why. It just doesn't sound natural to say something like that about... Finn. Or anyone, really. Elli giggles. "Well, he does. Riegan's eyes are... what -"

"Brown..." I reply slowly... lighter brown, so they're almost hazel.

"I think _lighter _eyes are prettier," Elli tells me nonchalantly. Because talking about eye color is totally natural. She peers into mine. "Like yours and Katniss'." She looks around to my mother, who shakes her head, smiling. Mother and I don't have the same eye color, but everyone in my family has either blue or gray eyes.

"Thank you, Elli."

Annie says thoughtfully, "Riegan's more muscled, though."

"Annie!" Lira bursts out laughing.

She shrugs and smiles. "Just a thought."

"I thought so, too," I say thoughtlessly. "Think. Thought. Um. Think."

"I feel kind of thankful my son isn't in these observations," says Mother dryly, and suddenly I wonder what the girls will think of little Matzo Mellark when he's my age. He's cute, as in little puppy kind of cute... but does that mean he'll be _handsome_?

Apparently, they're all suddenly thinking about this, since Lira comments, "Well, he'll probably grow up to look a lot like Peeta..."

Mother laughs.

This is the strangest discussion I have ever been in, so I abandon them a little and go over to the swing. I'm taken back a year ago, when I was around two inches shorter, and I had just turned thirteen instead of fourteen. Finn and Annie Odair were strangers in my mind – Grandmother almost as much as a stranger. Riegan was beside me, being a giant failure when it came to swinging. I smile a little wistfully as I push my legs up into the sky. I'm making the old swing set creak dangerously.

Elli joins me. She's a magnificent swinger, and a contrast to the companion I had last year. In our silence, I have come up with a decision.

I need to do some talking, or some thinking. The thinking thing – that hasn't worked out for me so far, since I just keep mentally abusing myself and I just don't get anywhere with my "problems". (Funny, how _boys _define my problems. I'm such a girl. This bugs me.) I wonder who to talk to. When it comes to any other "problem", my first instinct is to write to Riegan, but now I scoff a little. Right; I'm going to talk to Riegan about this...

Second choice is Mother, but _Mother _is actually part of the problem. Father... Mother in the problem means Father's in the problem. The two of them go together in my mind, and there is no other way.

I think about Finn, or Annie, or Elli, but again – the first is part of the problem, second is, by extent... and Elli is too biased. I also don't feel quite like I can trust her totally with this thing. It embarrasses me to think about it. Also, Grandmother... Grandmother's sure to tell Mother and Father.

As I swing upwards, my eyes catch a glimpse of the house over the fence.

_Haymitch_.

I don't believe I'm actually considering _Haymitch_...

But, I remind myself, he basically saved both my parents' lives. He is my sword-fighting tutor, even if he is a drunk. If I can trust him to put a sword against me, then I should trust him with petty little girl problems, right? Also, he was right in the middle of Mother's own boy problems... I suddenly leap off the swing and say quickly, "I'll be right back."

Before anyone can react, I launch into a sprint out the lot and into Haymitch's. My hand comes to a halt on the doorbell... what am I thinking? I can deal with these problems by myself...

But when I turn around, the door opens, revealing Haymitch, with stubble on his chin and a beer in his hand. I look up at him and wrinkle my nose. He is _definitely _drunk today. "Little Miss Katniss!"

"Tara," I correct. I'm not sure if he's hallucinating and thinks I'm Mother, or he's just teasing me.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he drawls.

I cross my arms. "I want advice."

This takes him aback, even if he is intoxicated. "... don't tell me. Boy trouble, sweetheart?" I don't know why, but this hurts me in a way that Haymitch rarely can. It must show on my face, because even in his drunken state, he tries to take it back. "Okay, not funny."

I purse my lips. "My mom came up to you like this once, didn't she?"

Haymitch makes a face and nods. "Mmmmmhm." He sits down on the porch steps, and I sit down beside him. "She walked away, though."

"Huh?"

"I said the same thing to her. Asked her if she had boy troubles."

I look up at him curiously. "And she got insulted."

"She had the boy troubles for longer than you had, sweetheart," Haymitch informs me, inhaling deeply.

I know I came here to ask for his opinion, or to just talk to him, but now I'm just fascinated. "Haymitch, are you happy with who she ended up with?"

"I would have been happy no matter who she ended up with – only if she was happy."

This sounds strangely compassionate for Haymitch. I press, "But before the bombs went off, before Aunt Prim was killed, who did you think Mother would choose?"

He gives me an amused look. "Neither."

"Neither?" I echo, processing that.

He nods. "I always imagined that _nothing _would make Katniss to just be happy with one of them, without the other. I never considered what could... break her relationship with one of them. She took a whip for Gale, spent most of her childhood with him. But she was willing to die for Peeta in the Quell... and she couldn't stop loving him even when he saw her as nothing more than human."

"How do you know that?" I ask breathlessly.

"You ever looked in that little box on your mom's dresser, sweetheart?"

I raise a brow. "I... no. Why?" I know of the box, but I never bothered looking in it.

"There's a little pearl in it." He breathes deeply, and closes his eyes, like he's trying to remember something. "Once – Effie Trinket, District Twelve's escort... she wasn't the brightest. She told the sponsors that 'if you put enough pressure on coals, they turn into pearls'."

"That's not true."

"Yeah, but she didn't know that. Anyway, your parents had that little inside joke in the Quell, and Peeta gave her a pearl. I know Katniss never let go of that pearl he gave her, throughout the war," says Haymitch with a small smile, "not even now."

I lean back on the steps, frowning. "So..."

Haymitch continues, "But what Gale had going for him was that he kept Katniss and her family alive all those years, Tara. Then Prim died. And for all we know, it could have been his fault. That killed it." He looks over to our house, "And, well... that's all they can be now, I think. Strained friends, after two decades..."

I feel a little nervous flutter in my stomach when I think about the idea of Riegan and me being strained friends, and even just after two decades. I can't think it possible. I ask, "If Aunt Prim didn't die, do you think Mother would have chosen Gale instead?"

He crosses his arms. "... no."

"No?" I repeat.

He shakes his head. "It always would have ended up this way, Tara."

Yeah, that's what Mother says... I frown. "Do you think Father really stopped loving her while he was hijacked?"

"You've seen him in his fits, yeah?" He looks at me. I nod. "Do you think he stops loving her when he has those fits?"

I can't help but smile. "No."

"There we go, then." He smiles at me, and I'm not sure if it's a drunken or sincere smile. "You know, you _are _a lot like her..."

I begin to protest, "I am -"

"But you're a lot like Peeta, too," says Haymitch calmly. "And then there's a whole new person added into it."

I beam. "Thanks, Haymitch."

He raises his brow at me. "Still want to talk about the boy problems?"

"Well..." I think about it for a few seconds, and then shrug. "You'll be here if I ever want to talk about it again, anyway. And I don't want to think that I have boy problems – I might just see what happens. I'm still fourteen. Long way to go to worry about stupid boys."

He bursts out laughing. Yeah, he's definitely drunk. "Exactly."

"I'm not sure what I wanted to ask, anyway," I say hesitantly.

"Finn or Riegan?" he tries, wiggling his eyebrows annoyingly.

I shake my head. "No..."

"If I held you at gunpoint, right now, who would you rather kiss?" he asks. "Not date, or marry, or any of that. Who would you prefer to kiss?"

I blush, and consider not answering, but this is Haymitch. And he's drunk. He might not even remember my answer. "I think that's obvious." And it is. I know it is.

"Say the name, sweetheart. I want to hear it."

Finn, the awkward but refreshing spirit that I won't approach for secrets, but for a change in conversation. For a more sophisticated, less joking, conversation.

My best friend. Riegan. Smug, silly, and just Riegan. The one that I've actually kissed, even if it was fake.

I frown. "... Riegan. But that's because -"

He cuts me off. "I get it, Tara. I don't want an explanation." He shakes his head, I think in amusement. "I thought I would have to stop dealing with the issue of a teenage girl twenty years ago..."

"You're like the perfect diary. _Dear Haymitch, today some girls called my shirt ugly_." I grin."If you're still alive, maybe, if I have one, my daughter will like a chat with you someday," I say cheekily.

Haymitch snorts. "You'll have to go through my secretary – I'm pretty much booked the next four thousand years or so."

* * *

Yeah, I missed Haymitch, so I wrote about him in this chapter. He's among my favorite characters in the books, and I really hope I did him justice haha.

Review review review review review review! :)


	18. Truth or Dare?

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

"Truth or dare?"

I look up from the word search puzzle, keeping my pencil on the paper. "Seriously, Riegan?"

"Yeah; seriously, Riegan?" Finn leans back in the armchair and crosses his arms. We're all in Father's office. Riegan's on the computer, Finn is flipping through one of my books, and I'm lying on the floor, on my stomach, doing a word search. Obviously, Riegan's bored, because he's spun around in Father's chair, twirling a pen in his fingers.

Riegan grins. "Come on, just tell me! Truth or dare?"

I sigh, and sit up, my knees tucked under me. "... truth."

He looks unmistakeably diabolical; I regret choosing truth. He smirks, looking several years more immature, and asks me, "So – who has the prettier eyes – me, or Finn?"

I groan. "Riegan!" Finn surprises me, and instead of being embarrassed, stifles a little snort. "I _can't _believe – you were eavesdropping?"

"Oh, please. You do it all the time," says Riegan cheekily, "and you haven't answered my question yet."

"I refuse to answer that," I say stubbornly.

"It's Finn, isn't it?"

"_Riegan_!"

"What? It's objective! I just want to know, from a _girl's _point of view, if Finn has the prettier eyes!" Riegan argues, ever-so-innocently.

I groan. "If I tell you, will you shut up?"

"Yes."

"Finn."

He pouts. "My eyes aren't pretty?"

"Yes. They look like poop."

"Tara!"

I laugh. "Mhm. It's true. Don't you think so, Mr. Dreamy-Sea-Green-Eyes?" I look to Finn. Now I'm just teasing. And it's fun.

Riegan crosses his arms and huffs. Finn laughs, but he's a little red. He replies slowly, "Not _poop_, exactly..."

"I don't believe this!" says Riegan, shaking his head.

"Maybe it's why you don't have a girlfriend," Finn suggests. I make a little snorting sound from the back of my throat.

"Hey!" Riegan gives him a look. "_You _don't have one, either, Mr. _Seaweed_."

Finn's amused, but he says, feigning hurt, "Ouch. That's definitely a downgrade from _dreamy_."

Riegan looks to me and demands, "But Annie's right, right? I _am _more muscled, right?"

I giggle. "If you are, you wouldn't be worried... right?"

"Tara!" he whines. "I need to know what's right about my appearance!"

"Why?" I ask, raising a brow and smirking, because I have a guess about why he suddenly asked these questions. "I could just _ask _the girl you like if she likes you..."

"Tara. Answer the _question_."

"Finn has prettier eyes, but you _are_ more muscled. But Finn has better hair. But you have a nicer nose. We can go on and on and on and on," I say. This amuses me. I burst out laughing because they both instantly move: Finn runs a hand through his hair, and Riegan rubs his nose inquisitively.

"You still think he's better-looking," says Riegan, shooting Finn a look. He's sticking out his tongue, so I can tell it's only fake jealousy.

I shrug. "Yeah..." Finn blushes.

Riegan gasps. "I didn't think you'd actually admit it."

"It doesn't mean anything," I say, shifting my position to return to the word search. "I think Matzo could become better-looking than you, Riegan."

"What's wrong with how I look?" Riegan asks, going off the chair and sitting right beside me, looking at me with a frustrated expression.

Leaning back, I look up at him in confusion. "Nothing, Riegan..."

"But I'm not _handsome_," he insists, trying to get answers out of me.

I sigh. "Finn, can you help me knock some sense into him?" I look helplessly up at Finn, who's retrieved the book again and has started flipping through it once more. His voice is distant and careless.

"If you can't, I definitely can't, Tara."

I smile a little and sit up, looking at Riegan. "You're very handsome, Mr. Hawthorne. Where it matters." I ruffle his hair. "You could be bald and have eight arms, and you'll probably still be the bestest friend I've ever had!"

"You said that like an eight year old; I'm not sure if I can trust you," he says, but he's smiling.

I reach over and hug him tightly, but I don't say anything more. He's still smiling when I pull away. He gets what I'm trying to say. "Okay, can I _please _not hear any talk about your physical appearances for the next 48 hours, at _least_?"

"Do we get a prize if we do?" asks Riegan, back to his cheeky, annoying self.

"Yeah!" agrees Finn. "We get a prize if we do."

I cross my arms. "What do you two have in mind?"

They exchange looks. Riegan says, "How 'bout you go out of the room, we'll put you in Matz and Katniss' charge, and then we'll call you back in when we decide?" Cocking a brow, I rise slowly and walk out the door, right into the living room, where my brother and mother are painting a picture together. I turn around to the office door, where Riegan's head is poking out expectantly at me. Smiling, I continue to approach Mother and Matz.

"What's up, sweetheart?" asks Mother. The way she says "sweetheart" is a lot better than when Haymitch calls me that. She rarely calls me sweetheart – only when she's at her most relaxed.

I shrug and sit on the ottoman beside them. "They kicked me out of the room temporarily for private discussion."

Mother smiles, turning away from the painting and toward me for the first time. "What did you do, now?"

I laugh. "What makes you think I did something?"

"Because you're my daughter." She turns away, smiling still. "We always did something."

This should annoy me, but instead, I'm nodding. "Yeah. That's true." I look up at the painting for the first time, and I realize they're finger painting. In one corner, Matz has painted a white dog with brown spots. Matz's starting on a horse now. Mother drew flowers, and a sun with a smiling face and sunglasses.

"Mother, can we have Riegan stay over again, tonight? And Finn?" asks Matz, pausing his finger painting.

"Sure," she says quietly, and then she gets distracted in her paintings. Her fingers move in little swirls on the canvas, and I'm lost, watching her. Swirls, swirls, swirls. Father walks in just then, astonishingly quiet, and he gives me a small smile. He dips his fingers into the paint beside Matz, and then his arms go around Mother.

His fingers swirl, too. "I haven't figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon... I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there..."

"And then they fade away," says Mother, as if they're reciting lines in a play, "back into the air." She uses her paint-smeared fingers to draw what looks like a flower on Father's cheek. He grins.

"Wow; it's been a while," he says.

Mother looks a little amazed. "You remember."

"It's been more than twenty years," Father replies, lifting me from the ottoman. He sits down and puts me on his lap. "I ought to remember." It's funny, how usually a long space between time means you've forgotten, but when it comes to Father, the longer it's been, the less the shiny memories are there. So, the more he remembers.

The office door opens again. Riegan looks deadly serious. His voice is low when he tells me, "Miss Mellark, we're ready for you."

I giggle, because Mother, Father, and Matz look baffled. I hop off Father's lap and say solemnly, "If I don't make it... Matz, I want you to have all my clothes."

"No, thanks."

I smile and skip off, giving Riegan a playful shove out of the way. I sit next to Finn on the couch. "So. What's your worst?"

"_You _have to sing us a song," announces Riegan.

I make a face. "That's your worst?" That, my friends, was a stupid thing to assume.

"You have to write it," continues Finn.

"It has to be serious," adds Riegan.

My jaw has dropped, and still Finn goes on: "And it can't just be like four lines, it has to be an actual _song_. No shorter than _the Hanging Tree_."

"Yeah, and you can't get Katniss or anyone to help you," says Riegan, sitting on the other side of me. "It has to be all you."

I gape. "Surely, boys, it'd be nicer to just stick a knife through me?"

Riegan's eyes are twinkling. "That would be significantly less enjoyable, Miss Tara."

...

After staying up with the boys, whispering scary stories to one another, I fall asleep just after midnight. It's a warm night, so my door is left open, and so is Matz's. I can hear Riegan's snoring all the way from my room; I fall asleep to the snores, but they are present in my dreams and it's annoying. I wake up just two hours later, however, to an ear-splitting scream. I sit up suddenly. Riegan's still snoring, so I have to assume that the boys didn't hear, by some miracle. I jump out of bed and tiptoe past Matz's room, stopping at my parents' room.

Mother is still screaming, only it's not as loud. "PEETA!" she cries, and then she sobs a "Prim..."

I see Father leaning over her, shaking her shoulder gently. "Shh... Katniss, wake up."

"RUN!" she says, as her eyes fly open, and she sits up. Even in the darkness, from the hallway, I can see that her eyes are alarmed, and her hair is wild and tangled. I hide in the shadows. I've never _seen _Mother after her nightmares. Only heard. And it's more frightening to have experienced it like this. She gasps for breath, and Father holds her to him, stroking her hair.

He hushes her gently, murmuring little words that I can't hear. I find that I'm feeling jealous – I can't place on the reason why for a long moment, but then I realize... it's because no one seeing them now could doubt their love. It's funny how much I would like that for myself... and how much I don't want that, at the same time. I peek through the door, and Father is rocking her back and forth, talking quietly. I can't hear what he's saying, clearly, but I can hear Mother. She's talking to him about the nightmare.

"... I saw her die again," she says. "I saw the parachute, and I saw her look around, and then I saw them explode... and again, and again, and again. And then Father …"

I lean against the wall for a moment, and then I take a deep breath. I push against the door slightly. "Mother, are you all right?"

Mother looks to me and nods, blinking her eyes. "Yes, Tara..."

I back out of the room and retreat into the shadows, but my back doesn't turn to the room. I am silent, staying quietly there for a moment, waiting to make sure that Mother truly is okay. I hear her whisper, "Stay with me." And I don't hear the reply, but I know what it is.

_Always_.

I smile a little and then turn around, and I'm facing the silhouettes of Riegan and Matz, with Finn in the background. They move into the light. "What happened?" Riegan whispers. They all look anxious and unsure.

I shake my head. "Nightmare."

He moves toward me hesitantly. "Is that... does that happen often?"

"More often when I was younger," I reply slowly. "Less often, now."

"Will she be all right?" Riegan asks. Finn looks between Matz and me.

I look over my shoulder, and I hear Father's voice in my mind: _Always_. I nod. "She'll be all right."

* * *

This is kind of just a "set-up" chapter, and then I added that little bit at the end, which is how Tara looks at the moment that I've been visualizing for a while now.

No, I'm not actually going to write a song. I'm not a poet, haha. I'm going to use a real song and we'll pretend Tara wrote it – but we'll know she didn't. :)

**REVIEW! :D**


	19. Let's Not Play Pretend

The disclaimers are returning, with this chapter!

I don't own Katniss, Peeta, the Hunger Games – all that jazz. The brilliant Suzanne Collins does.

I also don't own the song. The lyrics are by Kimmy of mockingjay[dot]net, and the tune is by LIGHTS. (Search it up! You'll love the song.)

* * *

Riegan and I are sitting together behind the back of the couch. It started out that he sat on the couch, and then I was behind it, but then he started wondering what I was up to. Then he joined me. My knees are folded up in front of me, and my notebook rests on it. The eraser part of my pencil is pressed against the edge of my lip, and my brow is furrowed in thought. I already know I'm going to lose the "bet", since Finn and Riegan have been doing quite well, not talking about the taboo topic.

I do play an instrument, by the way – the piano. We have an upright tucked away in the corner of our den, but I stopped playing because I was terrible at it... but now, I have to write a song. It is taunting me – I know that I need to find a way to keep my eyes on something else while I'm singing, and the piano is my only idea.

The back of the couch faces the kitchen, and we can see from where we're sitting that Mother is cooking dinner. "Any ideas yet, Miss Tara?" Riegan asks me.

I roll my eyes. "No. And leave me alone; inspiration won't come to me if you're sitting there, breathing down my neck."

"I'm pretty inspiring," he says, smirking.

I laugh, but shake my head. Mother looks over the counter at us, smiling. She knows what's going on and she offered to help me. Sadly, I couldn't accept.

Father comes downstairs just then, and he keeps his hand on the railing. He breathes deeply; the smell is wafting in his direction. "Mm... is that..." He moves toward Mother and swiftly takes a spoon out from the drawer. "... lamb stew?"

Mother sees the spoon reaching to dip into the pot, and she smacks his hand. "No."

Father grins and wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Come on. I'm hungry. Pretty please?" He gives her a kiss on the cheek for good measure. Riegan and I are both smiling.

She rolls her eyes. "Nice try." She turns around to him and smiles. "But I'm getting the first bite of _my _cooking – _my _lamb stew, so you're going to have to wait just like everybody else."

"Selfish woman." Father laughs and ducks the hit, moving out of the kitchen. Mother returns to her cooking, looking thoroughly amused.

Suddenly, my eyes widen, and my heart rate increases. "Oh!"

Riegan looks at me suddenly. "... inspired?"

I grin and nod. "Yes. Okay. Um. Mother, I'll be back in time for dinner!" I jump up and bolt to the front door.

"Wait, what?" she calls out in confusion, but I'm already halfway out the door.

I don't even stop to run to Haymitch's house. I bang on the door. "HAYMITCH!" I say urgently, hitting the doorbell button several times.

"Whoa, whoa," I hear the voice from the inside saying. He opens the door and says, "Your house better be burning up, from the number of times you rang."

I ignore him and say smoothly, "I need your help."

...

I'm holding my notebook anxiously. My audience is just Finn, Riegan, Matz, Haymitch, and – the part which makes me really nervous – my parents. I _did _ask Haymitch too much about the song, I guess, but he did look it over several times as well. So, it shouldn't be too … weird, I guess. I'm a bit thankful that Finn and Riegan asked me to write a song; it's opened my eyes quite a bit, to my dad – something I haven't been doing a lot.

I look at him in particular, before I speak. He looks interested, and I wonder if this will bother him... "Well, um." I look at them awkwardly. "I …"

"Just sing, Tara," urges Riegan. They all nod.

I grin ruefully and then gaze at the keys, placing my fingers on it. I start playing slowly and carefully, stalling for the part where I have to sing... but it does come:

_When I heard her call out your name, my face fell  
__Trying to end the one you love is a livin' hell  
__The star-cross'd lovers of these Games are all we can be  
__She thinks I'm pretending, oh, why can't she see?_

_I would like to fall in love again  
__And just start as good friends,  
__No camera, or lens; let's not play pretend._

There's a small part of just piano, here, and I force myself not to look at their expressions... they're not angry, are they? Or are they too infuriated to protest?

_Remember the time I held your hand in mine?  
__It felt just like solitude.  
__When in reality, the whole world was listening.  
__Just pretending, and entertaining: the world at home.  
__Why'd it happen like this? I guess I'll never know._

_I would like to fall in love again  
__And just start as good friends,  
__No camera, or lens; let's not play pretend._

_And when it's the end...  
__our lives will make sense,  
__We'll love, we'll bend, not play pretend._

_It won't be long before we're all gone  
__because of our honesty.  
__Please get it through your head,  
__You know that you love me..._

They're all clapping, but Father and Mother look surprised. Shocked? Insulted? I don't know. When the clapping fades, Father closes his eyes. I stand up and stammer, "Sorry, if that – I – I didn't..."

Father's eyes open suddenly. "Oh, dandelion – I didn't mind. Don't worry."

"I asked Haymitch for help." I'm stuttering clumsily. "I couldn't think of anything – and I ..."

"Tara!" Father smiles. "It helps. That song."

I stare at him dumbly. "It helps?"

He nods. "Yes... it helps me remember..." He clears his throat and recites the first few lines. "That. I forget how it _felt_. The 'shiny' memories... you know, they contort the real ones, and your song made the real emotions clearer. I should be thanking you."

"Oh," I exhale, in relief. I look to Mother. "Mother?"

She looks to Father and says, embarrassed, "Sorry." I'm confused as to why she's apologizing.

He smiles and shrugs, nudging her a bit playfully. "You came around. You 'got it through your head, you know that you love me'." Then, he frowns thoughtfully, "And... so did I, I guess."

"You're not... bothered by it?" I ask cautiously, faltering.

They both shake their heads. Mother says sincerely, "It's a lovely song. Very accurate."

"And," begins Finn, "if it counts for anything, we all enjoyed it, too."

"Really?" I say, uplifted. They all nod, and I say, "Let's not play pretend, boys. Seriously."

They laugh. Riegan nods. "Seriously."

And, as if determined to insert his opinion, Matz says loudly, "It was pretty!"

When the adults clear out, Riegan is lying down on the chaise with his eyes closed. Matz is playing with a yo-yo. Finn saunters over to me and asks, "So, I have a question -"

I immediately assume he's going to ask my opinion on how handsome he is or something. "You're not being serious, are you?"

Finn laughs. "No. Listen, will you?"

I narrow my eyes. "What?"

"How pretty do you think _you _are?"

This question catches me off guard completely. Riegan has shifted, and his eyes are slightly open to me. He wants to know my answer. "Well, um, er..." I shake my head in confusion.

"Okay, fine," says Finn. "Do you think you're pretty?"

"Well, I'm happy with the way I look, but... not pretty," I say slowly.

Riegan sits up. "What?"

"Why? Do you have any other opinion?" I ask a bit snappishly. Not hopefully. Of course not.

"Yeah; I think you're beautiful," he says bluntly. My face burns. He reminds me, still not bothered, "Not that it means anything. I just think you are. And not even just that 'beautiful on the inside' stuff – I seriously think you're … _pretty_."

"Riegan, are you pulling my leg?"

He smiles and crawls over to me. Then he pulls my leg. "Yeah."

"No; I mean, honestly."

Riegan nods and stands up. "Mhm. Pretty. Obviously, I don't think you're, like, drop-dead gorgeous or anything – but... yeah." I think of Ysabel and Elli and Rysnna, and the rest of my girl-friends. They all can call me beautiful and I'll just be bashful, but this is different. Riegan _isn't _Ysabel, or Elli, or Rysnna. He looks to Finn. "What do you think?"

"Pretty, but not my type." He smiles a little. "I guess. No offense, Tara."

I laugh, and move over to look at the mirror. I've never been bothered by how I look, I guess. Mother and I agree with that – I've heard her say it often. She's not beautiful, and she accepts it. So do I. We look alike in most every way, and yet she tells me she's never seen a more beautiful little girl. Mother's love? I think so – especially since Matz is the handsomest little boy she's ever seen. I look at myself critically in the mirror, and decide that I disagree with Riegan... but I'll take his compliments, I guess. "Thanks," I say to them, still frowning at my reflection.

In the reflection I can see Riegan turn to Finn. "So, what is your type?"

He just shrugs. "The kids from the town here? District Four-looking people? But – obviously, the whole thing with personality is more important."

Riegan looks to me. "If that's the case, I change my mind. You _are _drop-dead gorgeous."

I laugh and say, "I think you are very drop-dead gorgeous, too, Mr. Hawthorne."

...

Yes, that was short. :) Don't worry, I _think _things will pick up tomorrow...

**Preview:**

_I apologize profusely again. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been walking backwards..."_

_He laughs. My stomach does little weird flip-flops. "It's okay, really." His family gives me an amused look, and then they walk onward, giving a little wave._

_When they're out of earshot, Trisha and Elli burst into giggles. I say, embarrassed, "It wasn't that bad!"_

_Elli shakes her head, still snickering. "It's not that. He's handsome." I roll my eyes, and try to find a retort, but I can't think of anything._

**Yes, that's right! I'm giving Tara MORE MORE MORE BOY TROUBLES ;) Janet Finch writes:**

"Torture your protagonist. The writer is both a sadist and a masochist. We create people we love, and then we torture them. […] Sometimes we try to protect them from booboos that are too big. Don't. This is your protagonist, not your kid."

**_Review, please!_**


	20. Felix

Hello to **Hollie **and **friends of Hollie**, if you are possibly reading this :) (I know Hollie is, but I don't know about friend[s] of Hollie.)

**Huminihumini –** Thank you! [less than three] And I don't know, maybe ;) Also, perhaps Riegan will get jealous. We'll see xD

Who am I kidding? Of course he'll get jealous.

**_The Hunger Games _are not mine! :)**

* * *

This time I really am having a girls day, I promise. To ensure this, Elli has invited two more girls from our class: Sal, and Trisha. The three of us have decided to go District Twelve's movie theater, which isn't a good one. It's a kind of co-op theater, because the seats are mostly old couches and chaises and whatnot. It's also the old pool building, just remade to be a cinema. (The new pool is right beside it.) The theater has all the new releases when they come out, so we make do with what we've got. The movie we watched was a romantic comedy, and it was funny, but I think the other girls appreciated it more than it deserved. The protagonists were obviously very good-looking.

"They didn't have awesome chemistry, though," Sal comments thoughtfully, as we walk out the theater. I'm walking backwards, because we can't all fit on the sidewalk in one line.

Elli laughs. "They're _married_, Sal. With like, five kids."

I snicker. "Oh, how things go in the Capitol..." Because that _is _where most of our movies come from. Entertainment for Panem comes from there. "It must suck for the kids."

"Yeah, well." Elli just shrugs. Suddenly, they all open their mouths to tell me something, but -

I bump into someone, and I gasp and hop forwards, turning around. "Sorry, I'm _such _a klutz -" I begin to say, but my sentence gets cut off in surprise. I'm not sure why I'm so surprised.

The boy's about as tall as Riegan and Finn, so he's – Fifteen? Sixteen? Maybe a tall fourteen? And he's every bit as handsome as Finn (and fine, Riegan). Except... different. He doesn't have the small-town boy look that Riegan and Finn both have – his clothes look expensive, I guess. He looks like a male model or super famous person, but not really. And maybe he looks different 'cause his hair's all wet – probably just came from the pool. He's accompanied by four little kids – three boys and a girl – and two familiar-looking parents. I apologize profusely again. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been walking backwards..."

He laughs. My stomach does little weird flip-flops. "It's okay, really." His family gives me an amused look, and then they walk onward, giving a little wave.

When they're out of earshot, Trisha and Elli burst into giggles. I say, embarrassed, "It wasn't that bad!"

Elli shakes her head, still snickering. "It's not _that_. He's _handsome_." I roll my eyes, and try to find a retort, but I can't think of anything.

"Did you notice? Those guys looked _so _familiar, but they're not from Twelve," says Sal distractedly.

I frown and nod. "Yeah, I thought so, too."

...

"Everything on the list, and just the list."

Lira said this _very firmly _to Riegan, Finn, and me. We tend to wreak havoc no matter where we went, and probably, we could go to the grocery store looking for eggs and milk, and then come home with a birthday card and dog food. I'm gripping the little list firmly, trying to keep my mind set on the groceries, and just the groceries, but it's not working well.

Finn reaches around me and pokes Riegan's rib. He has a little spasm and jumps out of the way, and then tries to get me. I squeal. "No!" I say firmly. This, of course, just brings on more poking.

"Give in to the pokes, Tara!" yells Riegan, attracting the looks of several other people on the road.

I shake my head and say defiantly, "No, I won't!" He growls at me jokingly and they both run after me. Laughing, I burst into a sprint toward the grocery store.

And – for the second time in a week, I bump into someone. Same person, too.

"Whoa!"

I look up and gasp. "Oh, geez, again? Sorry. I really need to look where I'm going."

He smiles and shrugs. "No problem." He's alone this time.

Riegan and Finn catch up. Finn gives me one last, for good measure, and I jump out of the way, bumping into both Riegan and this new guy. I blush. "Sorry." I point at Finn. "'Twas his fault."

"Right. Of course it was," says Finn innocently.

I look up to the other guy. "I _am _sorry; we really need to stop meeting like this..."

New Guy laughs, and I feel that mysterious stomach-flipping again. "It's fine." He seems to be waiting to say something else, but then he doesn't say anything.

"Um, so. Where are you from?" I ask conversationally. "I know you're not from around here."

"Uh, well, I'm from the Capitol, officially," he replies, "but I haven't stayed in one place for more than one month at a time."

"... wh -" I gasp. "Your parents! They starred in that movie!"

He grins wryly and nods. "That's them."

"So, you're only in Twelve for a while?" I ask.

"No. They've decided to put down some roots since I'm turning sixteen this year; they let me choose where we're going to live from now on," he replies.

Riegan bursts in. "Sorry, but, um, who are you?"

"My name's Felix," he replies jovially.

"Finn," says Finn, just as friendly, "I'm from Four."

"And I'm Tara," I reply, smiling. "Welcome to Twelve, by the way."

"Tara and Finn," repeats Felix, and he realizes something. "Kids of … Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen. Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair?"

"Annie Odair," corrects Finn, the same time I say, "Katniss Mellark."

Felix smiles a little. "Oh-_kay_... and you?" He looks to Riegan.

"Riegan Hawthorne," he replies, and then continues to say: "District Two represent, son of Gale Hawthorne. Best friend of Miss Tara Mellark. And those are the best of my titles." He slings his arm around my shoulder. "But that last one is the best."

I smile up at him. Felix looks curious. "Bestfriend?"

Riegan and I both laugh. Riegan nods, while I say, "Yeah – no, we're not dating."

"- despite popular opinion," Riegan finishes dryly.

"Oh," is all Felix says. There's a small silence, now, and at the same time, Felix and I try to fill it. He starts asking about what school is like in Twelve, and I ask whereabouts he's staying. Grinning sheepishly, I motion for him to go ahead with his question. "Nah, my question wasn't that important; what were you asking?"

"Where are you staying?" I ask.

"I'm in the Victor's Village, actually," he tells me with a smile. "So, I guess we're neighbors."

Of course. Movie star parents – why would they live in town? The village has been occupied, at most, by three families, but then Father and Mother got married and they moved into Mother's house. So now just two houses are occupied; most of District Twelve aren't willing to fork out the money for a house like that. It's also pretty uncomfortable for most of them."Oh, Tara, that must be why there were lights on down the street," says Finn, "last night."

"We got in just after midnight." Felix nods. "Which one's your place?"

"Number Two," I reply. "White picket fence. Primroses and weeping willows. Yours?"

"Mom chose Six; 'cause she was born in District Six," he says.

I try and come up with the mental image of the Victor's Village in my mind. "Six..."

"Oh," says Riegan, "the one that Katniss planted the snowdrop trees and the honeysuckle in; it's down near the brook. Remember?"

"Oh!" I grin. "That's a great garden."

"Your mom just goes around planting flowers in the empty houses?" Felix raises a brow.

"My mom has a lot of time on her hands."

"I see..." Felix smiles a little.

I gasp. "Oh, gosh – the groceries! Lira's going to start wondering where we are..." I begin to pull Finn and Riegan into the store. "It was nice to meet you, Felix! We'll see you in the village."

When we're inside, and I'm pushing a cart resolutely down the aisles, Finn pokes me once more. "Finn," I say through gritted teeth, "really?"

He asks, "So... he your type?"

"_Finn Odair_!" I cry. "No, he is _not_."

"Tell me, honestly," he says, pulling ahead of me and stopping the cart. He looks me right in the eye. "Look me in the eye and tell me you are _not _attracted to this new guy."

I feel suddenly very aware of Riegan by my side, and I am about to respond... but then I just shake my head. I determinedly push the cart forward. Riegan holds me back, and I'm forced to stop. "So, you do like him."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement. I shake my head. "I barely know him."

"What's your point?"

"The point is, I can't like somebody just because I bumped into him – literally – a couple times." I shake my head. "Boys, you're being ridiculous. Can we just -"

Riegan's grip on me tightens. "Tara."

I sigh and look up at him. Right into his eyes. "No, I don't like him, okay, Riegan?"

His look hardens: his eyes narrow and he grits his teeth. He asks, "Cross your heart and hope to die?" Must be serious – he usually takes my word for things.

I draw an "X" over my heart and then hold my right hand up. "Cross my heart, and hope to die."

"Okay." He gives me one last (doubtful?) look before letting go of me, slowly, and allowing me to push the cart on.

...

"Oh, look who's back."

"We got held up," says Riegan, pushing ahead of his mother, dropping the grocery bags in the foyer. Lira looks surprised as he all but stomps into the house. He does look fairly disgruntled. She gives us a questioning look.

"Riegan's just jealous because Tara has a new boy in her life who's just as_ friendly _as he is," says Finn. I really hope there wasn't any double meaning to that.

Riegan's face momentarily appears back in the foyer. "Shut up."

"Who?" asks Lira, looking amused at her son.

He goes on into the house, and we follow. "Some new guy named – _whoa_."

There, sitting on my family's sectional – Felix and his family. I giggle and walk up to stand beside Riegan. I whisper to him so that nobody else can hear, "Awkward."

"Shut up," he mutters.

"Nice to see you guys again," says Felix, giving us a little half wave.

"You've met the Domitillas?" Mother raises a brow.

I nod. "Yeah. I bumped into Felix a few times..."

Both Felix and Riegan stifle snorts; for some reason, this throws me off. Father, Mother, Gale, Lira, and Annie don't bother asking why. Father continues, "Well, have you met everyone else?"

"No; not officially."

"Well, then. This is Vitus, and Caelina – you watched their movie with the girls a few days ago, didn't you?" says Father, totally casual.

I nod. "Nice to meet you." They say it the same time I do.

"And then this is Antonius, Cassian, Marcus -" the brothers, "- and Sabina." The sister, the youngest. They all look the same, but all exotic. They all have strawberry blonde hair and perfect figures and porcelain faces. They don't fit in with my family, who all look homely. At least, they look homely to me.

"And everyone, this is my daughter, Tara – and then Gale and Lira's son, Riegan, and Annie's: Finn," Father finishes.

Sabina wriggles out of her dad's arms and goes right up to me. "I'm six."

I smile. "That's cool."

"How old are _you_?"

"I'm fourteen," I reply.

"My brothers are fifteen, twelve, ten, and eight," Sabina announces. I decide that I like her. She looks to Riegan. "How old are _you_?" Finn comes up behind us just then.

"I'm turning sixteen this year," Riegan replies, a little stiffly. I give him a slight nudge, wondering why he's acting kind of coolly.

"My brother is, too!" says Sabina enthusiastically. "When's _your _birthday?"

"In September..."

"My brother's is, too!"

Felix looks up, now. "When's your birthday, Riegan?"

Riegan seems to be in a pretty crabby mood, which is unusual for him. "The seventeenth." He looks at him suspiciously. "Yours?"

"Just the day after," Felix says, amused.

"Oh!" I exclaim happily. I grab Riegan's arm and look imploringly toward Gale and Lira. "Please, please, please, pretty, pretty, please?" They know what I want. Having a double birthday is the_perfect _excuse.

"Oh, no," says Lira, shaking her head. "That's going right into school, Tara..."

"Please?" I beg. "He can help me do my homework or something. That can be his school. I can tutor."

"Or I can tutor," Felix suggests. "I'd be in the same class."

Riegan goes all rigid, and I squeeze his arm. I can tell he's about to suggest never mind, they should go back in August like they were supposed to, and I can hardly believe he's thinking about it. "Come on, Riegan; that's almost two more months! That's the longest we could be together at the same place and time. Two more months together!" He gives me a half-smile.

"It _is _tempting..." He glances at Lira hesitantly.

"We have to go back to work, dear," Lira reminds him.

I shake my head desperately. "He can stay with us! Matz would love it!" And so would I. "Mother?"

Mother laughs. "Well... we don't mind having him around. Obviously, Matz doesn't, either..."

"Ah..." Lira sighs. "Gale?"

Gale spreads his hands and shrugs. "I don't mind him staying longer, Lira, and obviously they don't, either. And Felix seems happy to help. Riegan's never been a bad student, anyway, and he could catch up. Or get the schoolwork mailed to him, or have it online."

"Yeah, let him stay a bit longer, Lira," agrees Annie.

"I agree!" Finn pipes up suddenly, "it _sucks _just having to write all the time, you know?" Riegan and I both give him a grateful look.

I grip Riegan's arm tightly, and he doesn't mind. I cross my fingers with the other hand, and Lira sighs. She throws her hands up, and I hug Riegan instead of squeezing his arm. "Yesyesyesyes," I say happily. "This is going to be the best summer _ever_."

Riegan, when I look back at him, has lost his stony expression and is now smiling his smile. I feel a surge of pleasure knowing that I can help him smile, and that I'm one of the few people that can get _that _smile out of him. Sabina pulls at my sleeve. "Tara?"

I look down at her. "Yes?"

"Do you _love _Riegan?"

Again? Really? Riegan smiles a little, so I smile slightly to Sabina, too. I bend down to look at her in the eye. "Yeah, I do." I look up at Riegan. He's still looking between the little girl and me, a little expectantly. I look back at her. "Like a brother."

* * *

This is going to be the best summer _ever_! :P

**Review review review. Even if you hate. I just want to know why ;)**


	21. Yes

I can't sleep, so this is going up now.

I just love how irritated you guys got with Tara haha. Just sayin'.

**A lot of this story is mine, but even more of it isn't :D**

* * *

The stars are out tonight. The best thing about District Twelve is that they are always out. Every night, I have the pleasure of seeing them: the twinkling sparkles of white and silver scattered over a black canvas. District Twelve's skies are the only thing that can contest District Four's ocean, I think. Right now I'm out in the Meadow, hiding in a clump of flowers, appreciating solitude. Nobody can see me from my position. I'm stargazing, and listening just to the mockingjays and the breathing of the night. Sometimes I hum with the mockingjays, sometimes I sing my own song. Mostly, I'm silent... but really, there's one person who almost always knows where I am, no matter how stealthy I'm being.

"Hey there, Miss Tara."

I don't even need to look up for him. "Hey, Mr. Hawthorne." He settles into the bed of flowers, lying down beside me, and he stays silent. I do a quick counting in my head. "Finn has been in District Four for eight hours now..."

Riegan turns his head slightly to me and smiles. "... but I'm not in District Two, so that's good, right?"

"You wanted to go home, didn't you?" I ask abruptly. "A few days ago when we convinced Lira for you to stay? You wanted to go back home instead of stay here with me."

He laughs lightly. "Tara – Miss Tara, you _are _home."

I smile a little and turn my body to face him. "But you did. You didn't want to stay. I know you, Riegan. Why?"

"I don't like him."

"But why?" I ask helplessly. I think over the past few days. Felix has mostly been staying out of our way; I think because he knows that Riegan and I wanted to spend most of our time with Finn. But when we have seen him, he's been quite nice.

He sighs. "I'm here, Tara; can't that just be all that matters?"

"No, because you don't like being here."

"Yes, I do!" he insists, turning to me. "Believe me, I do like being here. I just don't like him, okay?" He sees I'm about to ask the question again and he interrupts me: "I just don't get good vibes, all right? But look. What matters is, I'm here. With you. Until my birthday. You and Matz and Katniss and Peeta and Elli and Haymitch and everyone here gets to celebrate it with me this year. And that's good."

He looks so determined for me to just let it go. Hesitantly, I sink back down into the ground beside him. "Okay."

The silence that happens next is awkward, which is strange. Riegan and I aren't awkward – when we're not talking, the space is filled with unspoken words, usually. So he says quietly, "We should bring my friends here, when my parents come back for the birthday."

"Oh, yes!" I say eagerly. "I would love them to be here."

"And Finn, obviously, and Rysnna," he continues, sounding a bit more enthusiastic.

I hate to rain on his parade, since he seems to have forgotten that his birthday is a _double _birthday. Well, no. I guess we can have Felix's celebration on one day, with Riegan's on an other. So, I just stay silent and I don't reply, because there's nothing I can say that won't get him ticked off. He doesn't start up another conversation, but now, it's just the "unspoken words" – the breeze around me is filled with it. Our soundless conversation is still there. And it's just the way I like it.

...

"No, I think you're supposed to put the eggs first," says Riegan.

Mother looks baffled. "You have to bake in order?"

"No... I don't think so. I don't think Father does," Matz cuts in.

I point at the paper that's taped up on the cupboard above my head. "But it _says _in a large bowl, blah blah blah, beat in eggs one at a time, _and then_stir in vanilla. Doesn't that mean it has to be in order?"

This is why we let Father do the baking.

"Wait, wait, so we have the cream butter and the sugar here, and it's light and fluffy, and we have vanilla here, too," says Mother. "Let's just try and beat the eggs with it."

But Father's away, helping the Domitilla family move in, fixing some of the parts of the house that are a bit outdated. So, because we were bored, Matz and Riegan suggested that we try and bake a cake. Mother was strangely enthusiastic about the idea – I think she wanted the challenge. Well, we're barely done, and we're already messing things up.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Matz, Riegan, and I say in unison. Since I'm on the outside of the kitchen counter, I get a head start. I get to the door first, and I peek out the peephole.

I see who it is and open the door a little hesitantly. Oh, and Riegan was in such a good mood this morning, too. "Hey, Felix," I greet him. I can hear Riegan and Matz's footsteps halt behind me. Whoever Riegan dislikes, so does Matz... which should explain for as to why Matz turns around abruptly and back into the kitchen. I feel sorry for Felix.

Riegan, however, takes a step forward and stands beside me. "'Morning, Felix," he says, almost cheerfully. I do a double-take and stare up at him.

Felix smiles. "Hey." He spies that we're both wearing aprons: Riegan's wearing Father's "Kiss-the-Cook" one, and I'm wearing one that has little puppies all over it.

"We're baking a cake," I explain, grinning.

"Come join us?" Riegan suggests. Again, I have to force my jaw closed and my eyes not to look so huge. What's going on?

Felix nods. "Be glad to."

Mother, who is beating with great concentration, looks up. "Hey, Felix."

"Hi, Mrs. Everdeen," he greets. Like Rysnna, he has that weird (or respectful, depending how you think of it) rule of etiquette to call older people by their last name. I reach over on the hook that holds a bunch of aprons and pick a pink one with lace lining the edges. I grin and hand it to him. He laughs. "Thanks."

I wonder if Riegan's just being friendly because Mother's there. Mother says tiredly, "Know anything about baking, Felix?"

"A little."

As it turns out, with Felix's help, we get a decent-looking batter in the oven. The boys go outside to throw mud or something, but I stay with Mother in the kitchen, sitting on the counter. "Did you ever really like Finnick Odair, Mother?"

Mother looks up, raising a brow. "Uh … that depends on what you're saying..."

I shift awkwardly. "As in, like-like."

"No."

"No?"

"No, of course not," she says firmly. "When I was closest to him, _he _was not only very in love with Annie, but he also was the first person to recognize that I loved your father. First person to tell me, anyway."

"But you never cared for him," I say slowly.

"Not like that, no," she replies, leaning against the counter thoughtfully. She looks at me curiously. "Why?"

"Because," I say, teeth grinding together, "I can't find the line between friendship and ... not friendship."

"Riegan?" Mother looks alert.

I huff and say exasperatedly, "Both of them."

"Finn, too?"

"Yes," I say helplessly.

"I never thought you liked Finn," says Mother, confused. "Riegan, I mean, yes... a little. Not Finn, though."

"I don't think I do," I answer, equally perplexed, "but that's just it. I don't know." Then I shake my head. "No, I don't think I ever really liked Finn like that, I guess... it's always awkward with him. I can never figure out what to say."

"There you go?" Mother says this as a question, so she's unsure, too.

"I guess."

Mother's eyes go down to the oven, but she's still talking to me. "What about Riegan?"

"I don't know," I say helplessly. "I don't _think _there's anything romantic between us, but Mother, I don't know if he's acting like a _best _friend or..."

"A 'boy' friend?" Mother finishes for me wryly.

I blush just thinking about it. "Yes."

"What's this? I'm hearing about boyfriends?" I nearly lean back too far on the counter. I grab the edge of it to steady myself. Father has come home. He comes up behind me and grins. "My little girl's too young for a boyfriend..."

I laugh. "Don't worry, Father... no prospective boyfriends on the horizon for me..."

"Good." He smiles. "And I smell... chocolate cake? My family was baking without me?"

"Father's home!" comes a squeal from the outside, and Matz comes running in. "Hi, Father!"

"Hey, Matzo." Father laughs. Matz – almost 9, but he's still as much as a little boy as I have ever known him to be. He jumps up into Father's arms.

"Hi, Mr. Mellark. Are they all done?" asks Felix.

Father nods. "Mostly."

"I should go back," says Felix, already taking off the bright fuchsia apron. "I had a great time; thanks for letting me help out."

"It was great to have you," says Mother.

"Do you mind if we go see?" Riegan suggests.

Again, I'm really beginning to think that I'm hallucinating. Felix nods eagerly. "Yeah; you guys can come over."

Matz, who still seems convinced not to like Felix, decides that he's going to stay at home. Riegan and I tell Felix we'll be on our way there in a second, since we're still wearing our pajamas, so Felix goes ahead. When I'm alone with Riegan, walking down Victor's Village, I strike. "Okay, tell me what's up."

Riegan grins cheekily. "What?"

"Why are you being nice to him?" I demand.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, taunting me.

I laugh and jump up on his back. "_Tell me _or I'll choke you."

Riegan laughs, and he just lets me ride on his back. "You wouldn't."

"Tell me." I pause. "Did you change your mind about him?" I ask hopefully.

"Um... yes."

I lean my cheek on his shoulder and ask, "Why not sure?" I reach down and poke his ribs, causing him to nearly drop me. I laugh.

"Number one, please don't break my back. Or you. Don't break you. I'd get in trouble," says Riegan. I grin.

"What's number two?"

"I decided... I would try and get to know him," he says resignedly, "if I like him, then excellent, I've got myself a new friend. If not, well, then."

"And I accept that!" I say encouragingly. "I just want us to get to know him better. I mean, we should at least try and tolerate him, or something, since he's going to be my neighbor – and by extent, he's going to be yours, since you're here often." I go off his back when we come closer Number Six of the Victor's Village.

Of the empty houses, this one's the prettiest. Most of the Victor's Village grounds used to just be sprawling bright green lawns, but Mother and Father, like I had told Felix, had a lot of time on their hands. A variety of trees and bushes are scattered all over them now. Number Six sits on top of the highest hill in Victor's Village, which a brook cuts around. Riegan and I can hear the rush of water from the road; I remember dipping my feet in it with Matz when we were younger.

A brick fence and a black, wrought iron gate guards Number Six, which is a wide, squat house, with a peach-like color. The trees create a kind of archway over the path leading to the front door. There are cherry blossom trees: bright, happy, pink trees. Mixed in are simple trees that I can't quite name – but the flowers that dangle from its leaves and branches, I can recognize. The ivory petals face down to the ground, closed in. They are appropriately named "silver bells".

There are shrubs on the lawn, as well. They're all flowering. Most of the flowers are yellow, pink, white, or orange. The petals are thin and large, spread out over the leaves on the stems, facing upward, like they're watching the clouds. In contrast to the silver bells, the filaments of these flowers reach out to kiss the sky. These are honeysuckles. I bend over to admire them.

"Tara!"

I glance up and see Sabina running toward us on the gravel path, honey-colored hair flying behind her. It brings on a smile just to see it. I've only known her for a few days, and yet she runs to give me a hug. I laugh, picking her up and hugging her. "Hey there, little buddy."

"My room's a rainbow princess room!" she enthuses. "Go, go! Go see my new house, Tara!"

Riegan and I both look at each other and grin. I let Sabina down and she pulls my hand, leading Riegan and me up the front steps of the house. All the Victor's Village homes _look _the same – the style, I mean – but the inside is usually totally different. Number Six has many wide hallways and spiral staircases. Sabina leads me around one corner, and then she cries, "Oh!"

She has led me right into Felix. I hit my head with his chin, and I jump backward into Riegan, stepping on his foot. Now, we are all in pain. Felix is rubbing his jaw, Riegan is bouncing up and down on the other foot, and I'm holding a hand to my head, which feels like it's bruising. "Sabina," groans Felix irritably, mouth opening and closing, "oh, gosh, that hurts."

Sabina has let go of my hand, and her hands are clasped over her lips. "I'm so sorry!"

"What's all the commotion?"

From the far end of the hallway comes Caelina. "Sabina played bowling," Felix says, leaning against the wall, still rubbing his fingers on the side of his face.

"I didn't _mean _to!" she howls. "I just wanted to show Tara my rainbow princess room."

"Oh, come, you three – we'll get you some ice," says Caelina, and I can hardly believe that this woman played a sexy female protagonist in the movie I saw a few days ago. Riegan recovers and stands up. He wiggles his toes a bit, and then he walks beside me and Felix into the kitchen. There, Caelina gives Felix and me ice. I hold it up to my temple, and Felix holds his around his cheek.

Caelina looks to Riegan. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Riegan nods. He looks at me and Felix. "You guys?" I shrug, removing the ice from my forehead for a moment and run my hand over it. I still feel pain at that slightest pressure.

Felix's mouth opens wide, and then he hastily shuts it. "Um. I think I'll be okay if I don't yawn, or something."

"I'm sorry!" Sabina cries again. "I didn't mean to, Felix!"

"It's okay," Felix replies, even though I'm pretty sure it's not really. "We obviously haven't broken our habit," says Felix to me, a small smile showing up on his face. I find myself returning it.

"More painful this time around, though," I say ruefully, "and not just to us this time." I turn around to my right, where Riegan is (faking) being distracted by the backsplash. Again, I really can't see what it is about Felix that bugs him so much – and that's saying something. I _usually _know what's going on in his mind, but now I just can't tell.

Again, both Felix and I try to talk at the same time. I'm beginning to ask what he thinks of District Twelve, and he asks what Twelve school's like. I laugh. "It's okay. I don't know _many _older people, so I'm not sure who'll be in your class..."

"Teenan," Riegan suddenly says, a bit stonily.

"Oh. Well, yes, let's hope not." Even though in a town this small, it's not very likely that Felix and Teenan won't end up in the same class. She's just going to just go crazy if she finds him there... I feel a rush of pity.

Riegan and I stay for a while longer, and although he seems determined, and really friendly during the whole time we're there, Riegan still seems a little relieved when he glances at the clock. Lira and Gale always call at 10:00 A.M., and then again at 4:30 P.M., which is what time it is now. "Why don't you just go to take the call and come back?" I suggest. I'm enjoying talking with Felix. "I'll wait here."

This backs Riegan up into a corner. He hops off the bar stool and suppresses a look. "Fine. I'll be back in a few minutes." He gives one last cold glance – I think to me. That makes me crumble slightly.

When Riegan leaves, Felix looks at me. "I think he's in love with you."

I clench my fists. "You and the rest of the world, apparently."

"Is he?"

"It's not something he just -" I sigh. "You don't just walk up to people and say, 'I love you' out of the blue, Felix."

Felix shrugs. "You're his best friend, aren't you? I'd think you'd be able to tell."

"Yes, I am his best friend..." I lean on the counter. "No, he's not in love with me." I think.

"So..." Felix's face turns pink. "Do you think he'd mind if you went out with … me?"

I'm taken aback, but I think I cover it up. I wear a shy smile, but my heart's thudding and my stomach's doing the cartwheels again. "Why? … are you asking?"

"... yeah." He looks at me reluctantly. "_Would _you like to go out with me?"

I meet his eyes and smile. I am forcing my voice to ring out clear instead of crack like I'm expecting it to as I tell him: "Yes."

...

Oh, I can't wait to hear the opinions on this one... !

**If you could be so kind, please review? :)**


	22. Keeping Secrets

Surprise!

Holy freaking crap, guys, she updated twice in a day! Bam. :) I just have skillz like dat.

Also, happy happy birthday to **love. izzy. ****mellark**: I was about to seriously say no, of course not. :P Why would I kill the suspense I built (and I'm proud of it) at the end of last chapter? But... this one isn't a major turning point... at least in comparison to the next one I have coming. So, here it is.

You are all going to hate me so much by the end of this chapter, my friends :) Evil author, indeed. And I'm not even done yet. [insert evil laugh here] Have I ever told you guys how much I love you? xD Well, I do. Love love love the readers. I got 23 emails after going back to sleep, and I read all the reviews when I got up. They _made my day_.

Again, **I don't own the Hunger Games**, no matter how much I wish I did.

* * *

"You _what_?"

"Shh! Mother!" I look around anxiously.

"Taraxacum!" she cries, which is stupid, since it doesn't work. My real name isn't Taraxacum, so it doesn't work like when people call Matz "Matzo", and sometimes it sounds really stern. But... yeah. With me, it doesn't work. "What on earth are you thinking?"

"You kissed Father in the Games when you knew perfectly well that Gale was watching at home," I shoot back accusingly.

She raises a brow. "That was different, Tara, I had no choice. I wanted to bring both of us home, and Haymitch wouldn't send us food or anything otherwise."

Darn. As always, the mother brings me down in the argument. "Well, it's not like there's anything romantic between us, anyway..."

"That's what I thought about Gale and me."

"Mother!" I say, exasperatedly.

"Tara, I really want you to think about this," she says reluctantly.

I say icily, "It's not like he's a bad person, Mother. The only reason you're telling me to 'think about it' is because my best friend's a boy and you think that the best friend might think differently about this whole thing." I realize I'm not even saying his name. Hm.

Mother sighs. "He does seem like he's a nice kid..."

"He is!" I say fiercely.

There is a pause, and with that pause, I know I have won the argument. Ha. Mother studies me a little, and I can't see any resentment or anything there. It's just... observing. "I still really want you think about it. How are you going to tell... him?"

"Well, first of all, I already _said _I'd – I'd... you know. It would be rude of me to take it back." I take a deep breath. "Also, I won't."

"You won't what?"

I say slowly, "Tell him." I realize that we have never said the words "Felix" and "Riegan" throughout this entire conversation, even when I told her that I told Felix I would go out with him. I had said, _so... someone asked me out. _Then, her eyes went wide, and I said sharply, _no, not him! The other one._

"_Tara_xacum!" Mother says again. I give her a look. "You call him your best friend..."

A new voice: "I do believe I was just mentioned."

I cringe, but the look on his face when he walks into my room reveals that Riegan hadn't heard the rest of the conversation. He plops on the floor beside my bed, hair still wet from his shower. I bend down and smell. "You used my shampoo?"

He grins. "Your hair smells very nice."

No, he definitely did not hear the rest of the conversation. I look down at his cheerful expression and I'm certain that Riegan Hawthorne will not know about my going out with Felix Domitilla for as long as I can help it.

...

Since Felix is new in town, I'm in charge of deciding what we're going to do for the night. (Not that we have much to do in Twelve, anyway.) Matz, who I have trusted with the secret (against better judgment), promised me that he would keep Riegan in the house – but I'm not overly worried, since it's night-time. I started what I think is the beginning of many lies, telling him that I would be with Elli, Sal, and Trisha. Theyare covering for me, too, which obviously heightens the guilt significantly. As Felix and I walk on the Meadow, I can sense my house somewhere in the distance. In it, there is Riegan, content with believing lies he doesn't know are lies. Guilt surges through me. _Why _am I not telling him? As a best friend, I should be excited to tell him things like this...

"Where are we going?" asks Felix.

"Somewhere," I say with a smile. I do feel even more ashamed that I'm bringing Felix to "the place", but I rank "not getting seen by people" higher on my priority list than something else. Anyway, both Felix and I agreed that we are at least not watching a movie for the – the – I can't even say the word. _Date_.

Felix smiles. "Am I in danger at all? I'd like advanced warning."

I laugh, and for some reason, this brings on another thing that somebody else said a year ago: _And if it is the case, I'd like to save my son some of the grief, thanks. _It's not even the same comment at all! Why am I thinking of it? "No, you shouldn't be in danger."

"Actually," he says, "I think I kind of am. Your dad gave me quite the dirty look when I went to your house today."

"Oh," I say, embarrassed, "did he really?"

He grins. "Yeah. It's okay, though. He gave me a smile afterward, so I _think _he was joking." Then, he pauses and looks to me. "Speaking of going to your house... you haven't told Riegan, have you?"

I blush. "How did you guess?"

"How quickly you came out of the house," he says wryly. He spots my look and says, "Oh, I don't mind. It's up to you who you tell." Again – this reminds me that I told Father, who actually, legitimately cares about me having a … boyfriend. And then I'm not telling Riegan. Why?

Relieved, I change the subject. "You excited for school?"

He laughs. "Well, I'm not usually excited for school..." He hesitates. "It's the first time I've been in a real school with other kids."

"Really?" I look surprised. "How else do you..."

"Homeschooling," he reminds me. "I had a tutor."

As we walk, he goes on to tell me about his life prior to coming here. He has lived in all the Districts except Three, Five, Eight, Nine, Eleven... and Thirteen, I guess.

He was born in the Capitol, but less than half a year after his birth, his family moved to Six, where they lived for four years, which meant that Antonius was born during the time that they were in Six. Two years after Antonius, they moved to Four, where Cassian was born. After that, because Felix and Antonius were unhappy, they moved back to Six. They spent a year there before moving to One, where they spent another two years at. Then, Marcus arrived. Vitus and Caelina spent the next year transferring their children between the Capitol and Two, where Vitus' parents lived. After the Capitol-and-Two year, they moved to Seven, which is where Sabina was born. There were three years in Ten, and then three more between the Capitol, Two, and Six, months at a time. And now he's here.

"So... you like Six best?" I ask. I gather this because of his story. After living in Four, Felix and Antonius wanted to move back to where Antonius was born, and where Felix spent most of the years of his life. When Felix nods, I frown. "So why Twelve?"

He shrugs. "I wanted a change in scenery. Six has tall buildings and... too much _city_. And that's what the Capitol is, too."

I smile. "Well, I'm glad you came."

We now arrive at the lake – so we're not exactly at "the place", but the lake still is filled with echoes of Mother and Gale. And Riegan. And me. Which makes it worse. I point up at the sky, when Felix looks at me questioningly. I smile. "I bet you don't get that in the Capitol, or Two, or Six."

_Everything _I do with this boy just reminds me of Riegan. I hate it. I'm brought back to just a few nights ago when we were lying down beside each other, looking up at the same sky, listening to the same birds. What is the difference between then and now? Well, now I'm calling it a date. It wasn't a date with Riegan.

Felix and I sit down by the lake, putting our feet in the water. And we just talk. He asks me questions about what I like to do – I answer sword-fighting, and he asks questions about that. He asks me about the gardens, and the baking, and the painting. We talk about school, and the Capitol, and his parents' movies. We talk and talk and talk, and it's so easy; it baffles and pleases me at the same time.

Still... everything I find myself saying leads back to another person.

And I still hate it.

...

"Going out with Felix again, Tara?"

I flinch. _Going out_. "Yeah. You can come along, if you like."

"No, thanks."

I seriously wish I could describe to you the guilt I'm feeling. I have to continually remember how I had begged Lira to let Riegan stay with me until his birthday... and then Felix comes along and kills it. They're both really good to me about it. Riegan doesn't mind (at least, he says so), and Felix actually tries and gets me to hang out with Riegan more. Felix also always suggests that we invite Riegan along, but... well.

"Look, Tara," he had said to me solemnly, two or three days after Felix asked me you-know-what, "I do wish I could try... I did! I did try. I tried to like Felix, tried to get to know him, but I just can't ..."

I looked up at him, and for some reason the news thrilled me. "It's all right, Riegan. You gave it a shot. I appreciate it."

But now... I'm wishing that Riegan liked Felix enough. Then I could have the two of them with me at the same time. At home, I'm with Riegan all the time, but what can we talk about? I spend a lot of my day with the Domitillas, obviously including Felix. Riegan doesn't want to hear about it. _I _don't want to hear about his day with Matz. I feel guilty knowing that his day was spent with Matz. With Felix, we never seem to run out of things to talk about, which, I note very often, was what it used to be like with Riegan.

"I wish you would come," I tell him presently, frowning and sitting beside him as he types on a laptop. How funny it is – how easy it was for me to hug him, to press my body against his side, lean my head on his shoulder. And now, I stay at least half a foot away from him. I don't kiss his cheek, or squeeze his arm. None of those little things that I never was conscious about doing... now, I'm conscious about them.

Because there's another boy, and I kiss _him _on the cheek, and it's not the same. It means something more to both me... and Felix. I stare at Riegan for a moment, willing me to feel that level of trust that has been so constant, through the year we've known each other – even if it was just knowing each other through written or typed words. But it doesn't come. I feel my own disloyalty and guilt, and Riegan's nonchalance about it. Why doesn't he care?

Riegan turns and smiles his smile at me. _I miss you_, the smile makes me think. I wonder if he thinks it, too. Oh, and it's just been two weeks! I have just over one more month to live through. I can't believe I'm thinking it like that. Live through. I recall the ecstasy of knowing that Riegan was going to be near me for an extended period of time, that I would get to celebrate his birthday with him. Where has that gone?

"I wish I would, too," he tells me, a small, wistful smile replacing the first one.

"Then come," I urge. "Please?"

He shakes his head. "No, Tara." He looks at me with a hard look on his face, and I can think of what he's saying again. That's not all he wanted to say – I'm sure, he's asking me in his mind if _I_could just be the one to stay. And my answer is the same as his.

I can't. I don't know why.

Like many other things, I hate that, too.

"Tara?"

I hear the voice and I feel my mood improve considerably. "Hey, Felix. I'll be right out." I stand up and look at Riegan, seeing that his eyes have now left mine. I sigh a little to myself and force myself to bend down, kiss his cheek. "I'll see you later."

He gives me a half-hearted wave. "See you."

Joining Felix outside, he looks at me. "Tara..."

"I don't want to talk about it," I say roughly.

Felix nods, and smoothly switches the topic over to school, which starts in just three weeks. And he gets me talking. I talk about the people at school, the teachers, and then, out of the blue, his lips are pressed against mine. I don't quite know how long I stood there, because I'm dazed and confused, but when he pulls away, he looks a little embarrassed. "Where – where did that come from?" I ask, dizzy.

He grins sheepishly. "Nowhere, I guess." When I don't respond, he asks, "Is that okay?"

I smile. "It's okay."

"Go on," he says easily, "you were talking about your mathematics teacher last year." As if nothing had happened.

So, I do go on talking about my mathematics teacher last year. When the conversation drops, however, Felix picks it up right again with another question. He sounds very tentative as he asks, "Was that your first kiss, Tara?"

No! No! Don't ask me that question! _Why _did you ask me that question?

I try to be cheeky, but I know it can't last. "With you, it was."

"I know." He smiles a little. "Who else have you kissed before?"

"I... really don't want to answer that question," I say, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

Felix almost smirks. He raises a brow. "Riegan?"

"I don't appreciate your guessing skills. At all." I look up at him, cheeks crimson. "How'd you guess?"

"Like I told you," he says, squeezing the hand he was holding, continuing to walk: "I think he's in love with you."

I sigh. "I doubt it."

"Oh, really? That's a kind of different response from what I got last time," he comments. "What makes you say it like that?"

I shrug. "It just seems like... he doesn't care anymore."

"About you?"

"Yeah. About me." I bite my lip. "We never talk anymore, because we have nothing to talk about. It feels like we're falling apart, and it's weird, because we didn't fall apart even when we were just writing emails and letters, and talking on the phone. And now he sleeps in a room just next door to mine, and he eats all his meals with me, and..." My sentence trails off.

Felix sighs. He's either sympathetic or frustrated with me. Turns out it's the latter: "Tara, whether or not he's in love with you in that way, he's your best friend. I think you should tell him."

I give him a suspicious sidelong glance. "Well, you do think he's in love with me; how do I know you're not just trying to make him jealous?"

"You doubt he's in love with you; what do you have to lose?"

Touche.

I can't think of a response. Felix lets me fight with myself about this whole thing. The first question is, why am I not telling him? The second is, I suppose, is he in love with me? The third... do I really doubt he's in love with me?

Again, that line between friendship and not friendship? I really can't find it.

* * *

I know what you're all thinking: this cannot end well. If so, you're right. And I know you all were looking forward to seeing Riegan's reaction, too! Sorry :)

All righty, if you hate me now, just _wait _until tomorrow. I know authors should be sadists, but this might be taking things too far... haha, I don't know. Maybe. You be the judge.

**Review. Tell me how much you hate Felix (or me). Go ahead. :D**


	23. Unhappy Birthday

Whoa haha. I got a major response from you guys last chapter. Well, if it was that bad then, you're going to hate me, now. All I'm asking for is that you don't give up on me or the story yet! I'm not done! :)

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

Today is September seventeen.

Earlier this morning, Gale and Lira Hawthorne arrived in District Twelve with Ysabel, Fraser, and Vins.

"_Ooh... Tara has a boyfriend," Ysabel teased me. I gave her a little slap, glancing in the direction I thought Riegan was._

"_Riegan doesn't know yet. Shut up."_

Earlier this week, Grandmother, and the Odairs, arrived in District Twelve, the same day that the Johanna and Rysnna Mason arrived.

_Finn gawked at me. "I can't believe you haven't told him, yet! You wrote to me as soon as you -"_

"_- you haven't told him?" squeaked Rysnna. "Tara!"_

_I clenched my fists. "Riegan doesn't need to know every little bit of my life, you guys."_

"_He's your best friend," Finn and Rysnna said together._

Today is Riegan's sixteenth birthday.

I am determined to be Tara Mellark, best friend of Riegan Hawthorne, today. I am not Tara Mellark, girlfriend of Felix Domitilla. At least, not while Riegan is within a ten mile radius.

I even tell him so today when he comes into the house: "Felix, today, I'm breaking up with you." I see his startled expression and giggle. "Just for today. I'm going to be best friend of Riegan Hawthorne instead."

Felix looks delighted. "Good. I've been waiting for you to be his best friend... you are telling him, right?"

"Um, no. I'm not."

He rolls his eyes. "Then you're notbeing his best friend."

I give him a look. "Stay here. I don't think you're the first face he wants to see in the morning," I say, leaving him in the living room. I run up to Matz' room, hoping and wishing that they are both still asleep – and sure enough, they are.

I bend down beside the air mattress, and I remember doing this a year ago. I smile, feeling tempted to get a face towel and rub it all over his drool-stained chin. I crouch down and bring my lips to his ear. I take a deep breath: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RIEGAN!"

He sits up and tumbles out of the air mattress, knocking me over as he does. Again, I'm in pain, but I'm laughing. "Tara!" he says, and I laugh. I throw my arms around him, and it doesn't feel forced at all.

"Hey there, Mr. Sixteen!" I crow happily. Riegan's smiling, and he sits up, trying to release himself from my hug because he's in an awkward position, but I don't let him. "You're here! On your birthday! With me!"

"Dearest Miss Tara, can you please let me _breathe_ as part of my birthday present?" he asks, making a face at me. I give Matz, who's sitting up on his bed, a smirk.

I grin and let him go. But when he sits up, I hug him again. "Happy happy happy birthday!"

He laughs. "Well, if you're going to be difficult..." He shifts me on to his back and he carries me downstairs, where his parents are sitting with my parents. Felix is nowhere to be found – but I remind myself that I could care less, today.

"Tara Mellark," says Father, "you're going to break the birthday boy's back."

I grin up at him over Riegan's head. "He doesn't mind... do you, Mr. Hawthorne?"

"She's as light as a feather," Riegan tells Father sincerely. I giggle.

"Happy birthday, Riegan," says Gale, and I hop off his back to be considerate. Gale and Lira can't hug him if I'm on his back. So I go and sit next to Father and Mother while the Hawthornes greet each other.

Mother whispers in my ear, "You didn't tell him... did you?"

I sigh. "No."

Later on, during lunch, when I steal Riegan away from his parents, I take him on his birthday present. I cover his eyes while we're walking. It's perfect weather – at least for Riegan. His favorite weather is in when it's sunny, with no clouds in the sky, but there's still a decent breeze. It must be a good sign. Right?

I say anxiously, "I know it's not a good present, compared to the gifts you've given me, but I couldn't think of anything that could make you happy..." I uncover his eyes, and I watch his reaction as he surveys the perfectly laid out picnic. I continue rambling: "I know, it's just a picnic. Time with me isn't the best -"

He covers my lips with his hand. "Sh." He smiles and gives me a hug. "Time with you is exactly what I wanted."

Guilt, guilt, guilt. What kind of best friend am I? A month _wasted_. Felix will be here all year round, and Riegan was only here for two months. Suddenly, I'm crying.

"Whoa, whoa -" He pulls away. "Do I smell bad, or something?"

Now, I'm laughing and crying, and it's pathetic. I plop down on the picnic blanket. He sits beside me, puts an arm around me, and gives me a shoulder to cry on until I'm finished. I choke, through my tears: "I can't believe I spent the last two months feeling awkward with you. Two months wasted, when I could have spent them with you."

This seems to surprise Riegan. "I thought... you stopped liking me," he admits.

"What?" I exclaim, and this just brings on the tears again. "No, I didn't -"

"I thought you liked Felix better." He looks down. "I thought you were getting along with him better, and I just wasn't the same to you."

"No!" I say, gasping. "No – oh, I'm so sorry, Riegan... I messed up." I bury my face in his shoulder. Oh, why didn't I _listen _to Mother, and Felix?

He smiles and kisses my forehead. "Come on, Miss Tara, my time here's not done yet. Let's enjoy the picnic."

So, we do. We have lunch together. I can't really remember the last time we spent time together quite like this, and I despise it. When most of the food is done, I pull out two little cupcakes from the picnic basket. Riegan holds up his cupcake. "To … our friendship."

I grin and bump my cupcake against his. "Our friendship."

We munch on cupcakes in our beautiful solitude, and I distract myself by playing with the flowers surrounding our picnic. Riegan stops my hands, and picks one out of the ground. Then he inserts it behind my ear. "I have a question," says Riegan slowly.

I look at him. "What's up?"

"Was there ever... anything more betw -"

His sentence gets cut off: "Hey! Tara, Riegan!" We both turn around to see Matz. "You guys need to come back, time to prepare for the dinner!"

So, hastily, Riegan and I start packing up, forgetting completely about Riegan's question.

...

"So, did Riegan like his gift?"

Felix and I are setting up the tables outside. It _is _Riegan's birthday, but even Riegan agreed that it was a bit tedious to have two dinners, just one after the other. So, on one end of our backyard, there is one cake, and on the opposite, there is another cake. Father has frosted their names on the front of the cakes.

I smile. "Yeah. He did." I self-consciously pull a hand to the flower in my hair.

"How about you?" he asks. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes," I say. "I missed spending time with him."

"I told you to spend more time with him," Felix tells me in a very I-told-you-so kind of way.

"Well, I thought he didn't care anymore," I say haughtily. "I thought it would just be... overbearing."

Felix shakes his head. "Either way, I was right!"

I laugh and shake my head, not responding. It's still Riegan's perfect weather, which makes my mood improve. I'm best friends with Riegan again. The weather is nice. Riegan is here for his birthday. Ysabel, Vins, Fraser, Finn, Rysnna – they're all here. I have a nice, caring boyfriend. How on earth could anything go wrong?

"Did you tell him yet?" Felix asks me beneath his breath.

I sigh. "Obviously, I didn't. If I did, I would have told you, wouldn't I?"

"Why won't you tell him?" Felix says tiredly. "I'm beginning to think you're just ashamed that you have me as a boyfriend."

"No!" I say. "Of course not! I just don't -"

"Why, then?" he says, raising his voice. "Why won't you tell him? You don't think he's in love with you, so why won't you tell him?"

I feel defensive. "What happened? A month ago you told me it was up to me who I told!"

"A month ago!" he says snappishly. "Exactly. Tara, we've been dating for more than a month, now. You have to tell him someday."

"It's up to me when and if I will tell him," I argue stubbornly. "You're just being ridiculous."

"_I'm _being ridiculous?" he says incredulously. "Tara!"

"He doesn't need to know!" I'm almost yelling. "This isn't the Capitol, Felix. Not everybody needs to know about everybody else's personal life."

He crosses his arms. "Yes, but those are strangers. We're talking about your best friend, not just your next-door neighbor."

I turn away from him – I can't take it anymore, and say, "I'm not -"

But then his arm goes around me and pulls me back, turning me around. He kisses me, even though I said that we weren't going to be doing this thing today. I can't find it in me to wriggle out of his grasp, though, and I just kiss him back. "Sorry," he apologizes. "Got carried away with the argument. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

The back door – which has a window that clearly reveals the backyard – bangs open, and Felix and I jump apart from one another. I turn to the door and my breath gets caught in my throat.

Riegan.

His face is red, his fists are clenched and his arms stiff at his sides. He walks to us tantalizingly slow. He breathes slowly and deeply, and he steps close to me. He doesn't even look at Felix.

"How long?" is all he says.

"W-what?" I falter.

"How long," he repeats, "have you kept this from me?"

I stare at him, lost for words.

"How long, Tara?" he yells.

I swallow. "A month."

"A month," he echoes, shaking his head in disbelief. His venomous tone seeps into the rest of his words: "Who else knows?"

I can feel the tears threatening to come out, now. "Everyone."

"Your parents?"

"Yes."

"Matz. Elli. Haymitch."

"... yes."

"Felix's family."

I nod mutely.

He lists some other people in Twelve, and I almost nod to all of them. I feel my heart giving a twist every time I tell him that yes, those people knew. His voice quiets to almost a whisper: "Finn. Rysnna."

"Yes," I say, biting my lip. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"My parents?"

"... no."

He purses his lips. "Ysabel, Fraser, Vins."

I shut my eyes. "Yes."

"I don't believe you!" he thunders. "You told _my _best friends that you had a boyfriend!"

"I thought -" Now would not be a good time to ask if I am his best friend, not Ysabel, Fraser or Vins. Was his best friend. I don't even know if I am anymore.

But, Riegan, as always, knows what I'm thinking. "You seriously think that I can consider you to even be my friend, now, Tara?" he says coldly. That is a huge blow. I tremble slightly. "If we truly were best friends you would have told me. _Why _didn't you _tell me_?"

"Everyone said -"

"I don't care what everyone said!" he interrupts me. "I was your best friend, not them! I would have wanted to know, whether or not -" Riegan's sentence gets cut off. I'm sure we both finish it in our minds: _I was in love with you_.

"I'm s -" I try to apologize.

"Even your boyfriend told you to tell me, didn't he?" Riegan says, voice low and full of contempt. I've never heard him talk like this.

"Riegan, please -"

"Don't!" he says, hurt replacing the hate in his voice. He shuts his eyes. "Just – don't."

Riegan spins on his heel and walks away. I can't even find it in me to follow him, to reach for him and hold him back. I swear I can hear him mutter, "happy birthday, indeed", as he walks in. I see everyone through the door – all our friends, family. Some are looking after Riegan as he goes inside. Some are staring at me. I bow my head, fall onto the grass, and let myself have a good cry.

* * *

**Don't give up on me with this, guys! :) I'm not finished! I promise, tomorrow's is better. If not, you can chuck rotten tomatoes at me.**


	24. Stars

I love you all, really! :P But as an anonymous reviewer said:

"_If it was just Riegan/Tara romance the whole time, people would eventually get tired of it. But no, you have thrown Felix into the mix and it makes it interesting. Of course I'm Team Riegan, but I love the conflicts and I'm curious to see how they turn out._"

Be honest with yourselves, guys ;) If I didn't throw in Finn, or Felix, or Riegan and Tara's blatant stubbornness when it comes to their _obvious _feelings, y'all would definitely get bored. The reason you keep coming back everyday is because you want to see if I've finally satisfied with your needs :P Am I right, or am I right?

And remember: I am Team Riegan as much as the next person! :D Trust me. I want a guy best friend just like him. It's why he's written like that. _And _for the record, my plan was to stop writing IAS when Tara's issues get resolved, so once that's done... I'm focusing on something else :P The sooner that happens, the sooner you stop getting story alerts every morning, haha.

[less than three here] Thanks for sticking with me, all. :) If you have. Haha. This one's for you!

**I don't own the Hunger Games**.

* * *

I pressed my ear against the wall, listening. Riegan slept in the guest bedroom that night, and even found out how to lock the door. Everyone had left. I didn't talk to any of them. Not my parents, not Matz, not Felix... especially not Riegan.

Pain. Pain. Pain. That's all I felt that night.

"I just want to go home."

My heart gave a frightened little twist at the idea of Riegan leaving. Riegan leaving for good. No more Riegan around on my birthday. It had lasted such a short while, too.

"Riegan, hon, I know it seems bad, now -"

"Son, it's your birthday, you have to -"

"Mom. Dad," he interrupted, voice cracking, "I just want to go home."

I ran to my room, slammed the door, locked it, and then burst into tears. I stuffed my face in the pillow. Because I didn't want anybody to hear me cry. And nobody needed to.

...

"Tara, sweetheart, Felix wants to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk."

…

"Tara, I swear, I didn't _know _he was there -"

"Go away, Felix... please."

…

"He's right there, Tara, won't you just -"

"I don't want to talk to him, Elli."

…

"He didn't even do anything wrong, Tara!"

"Since when did _you _like him, Matzo?"

"I don't. But you're being mean."

…

"Tara, I'm sorry for whatever I did -"

"I just don't want to talk, Felix."

…

"It's been months, Tara!"

"I really don't care, Trisha."

…

_You have 13 voice-mail messages. _"Hey, it's Felix. How long's it been, Tara? Six months? I'm going to try this way to get you to talk to me... any chance I'll get a reply?" Beep. "Come on, please? Just talk to me over phone. Or something. Send me a note." Beep. "Tara? Please?" Beep. "I've never really understood why you're mad at me. I just need to know why."

Beep.

…

"That's it." I stare up at Father, expressionless. I hadn't realized he was watching me listen to the voice-mail. "Just because Riegan -" I flinch, "- won't talk to you, doesn't mean you can just ignore Felix, Tara."

I don't respond, because he said both the words "Riegan" and "Felix" when he spoke to me. I haven't exactly become mute, don't worry; I only stop talking once people bring up Riegan and Felix. I'm not depressed, either. Promise. I can tell you exactly the last time I laughed – yesterday, when Matz told me a joke his classmate told him. (It was a good joke. Cheesy and stupid. But good. It was hilarious.) So, I haven't become entirely intolerable.

"Tara, I'm serious," he says, and he does sound stern, but I don't feel anything. "You can't live your life ignoring him."

I stand up and say, "If Riegan can spend the rest of his life ignoring me, I can spend the rest of my life ignoring Felix."

"He didn't do anything wrong," Father insists.

I nod. "He hasn't."

"So why aren't you talking to him?" he demands.

"Because of everything he represents," I say, backing out of the room, leaving my family in the living room staring at me. It's a lame reason. I know it, they know it, but none of us try and change my mind. I go up to my room and sit on my bed, laptop open in front of me. I stare at the painting over the screen and grit my teeth.

It's a reminder of everything I did wrong... but I don't have the heart to take it down. It's a reminder of everything that I did right, too.

I save the email I'm writing to Rysnna and click a couple times for something else. _My Email. Sent Items._

Down the list:

TO: Riegan  
TO: Riegan  
TO: Riegan  
TO: Riegan  
TO: Riegan  
TO: Riegan

Sent yesterday. A week ago. Two weeks ago. A month ago. Six months ago. I look at the list with a heavy heart. I wonder if he's just blocked me, or something... yeah, probably. I would have blocked me, too.

...

The nightmare I have tonight is of Riegan, and the last words he ever spoke to me. "Don't. Just don't." He says it over and over again, to everything that I'm doing. Everything I did in the dream was wrong. I woke up, and breathe heavily. It's not even that frightening, now that I'm awake, but I still have to get out of bed. I pull on a sweater and decide I'm going for a walk. It's probably fifteen minutes to dawn.

Wrapping the sweater around me and pulling my arms close, I wonder why it's so cold – it's almost summer. I am staring at my boots, so I don't realize when I almost walk right into – who am I kidding? You know who I almost walked right into. "Hey," he greets me softly.

I look up into his familiar face. My stomach does it's familiar little somersaults and a little voice in the back of my head says, _being mean to Felix won't bring back Riegan_. So I say back in a whisper, "Hi."

"Why are you up so early?" … like nothing had happened.

"Couldn't go back to sleep," I say. My voice is still rough and dry from my sleep. "From a nightmare."

"Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head. "No, not really."

"Can I join you?"

"Sure." So, Felix turns around and we walk through Victor's Village together without talking. After a while, when we pass by Felix's house, I ask, "Why are you up so early?"

"I like the sunrise better than the sunset," he replies.

I look up. "Since when?"

"Since my birthday."

I had forgotten, that by casting out Felix on Riegan's birthday, I completely missed his birthday. I'm so heartless. "Why?"

"I pulled an all-nighter with Sabina," he replies. "Watched the sunset of Riegan's birthday and the sunrise of mine."

"You got Sabina to stay up?"

I get a smile out of him. "No, but I woke her up when the sun started to show."

I pause. "Where's the best place to watch it?"

Felix leads me up to Number Six, going around the house. We sit on the back fence, and sure enough, I can see the sun peeking out of the rolling hills, like a crescent. I yawn as beams of light peer past trees and the small District Twelve buildings. The sky shifts from dark blue to marigold in the span of a few minutes. It's the reverse of a sunset. I force my eyes to look at the sun as it climbs in the sky. When it is fully out of the horizon, I ask Felix, "Why do you like this better than the sunset?"

"It marks the beginning of a new day. A new day with no mistakes and … well, no mistakes. And it leads into something brighter, instead of something darker. It doesn't lead into night."

I don't respond for a long while. "Oh."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I was never mad at you," I reply. "I just... I couldn't talk to you, Felix. It's my fault, not yours; I'm sorry you had to pay for it. But I couldn't talk to you."

"It's okay." I slide off the fence, and his expression doesn't change. "Leaving already?"

I nod. "I want to sleep for maybe two or three more hours."

"I'll see you later, then."

I give him another brief nod. I take three steps away, and then pause, because I spotted in the sky one last star, hanging beside the still present half moon, on the other side of the sky. I find a smile on my face at the sight of the star. I make a wish, even though it's the last, and not the first star I'm seeing. I think one word: _Riegan_.

Suddenly, I realize something. I turn my head around to Felix.

"The sunset is an ending, but an ending is always a beginning, too." I turn my body completely and find the words pouring out of my mouth: "Also: the night isn't dark, Felix. And even when it is completely dark, it doesn't mean something bad. The night has_ hope_ that is twinkling and sparkling, even though everything else around it is black. There's a reason we wish on the first stars we see at night, and shooting stars. Night-time – night-time holds the wishes of something better... in an impossible world."

I begin to walk away again.

As I do, I keep my eye on the moon and the star. My thoughts sound like whispers: _I'm counting on you, night-time._

* * *

For every OUNCE of irritation you have ever felt for me, I'm pretty sure I'm making up for it tomorrow. :D Fluffiness galore.

**Review, please.**


	25. Right Here, Miss Tara

**soundofmelodies**: LOL I'm _so _glad you caught that. You win points.

Oh, and **Rachel-wa**, I agree. I was both alarmed and flattered, when I saw the reviews, lol.

You major Tiegan shippers (… everyone who has been waiting for me to "fix it", in other words) are going to love it and be irritated with me at the same time. :P You all BETTER appreciate it... honestly, this chapter is just cotton ball fluff on a stick.

**The Hunger Games are not mine!**

* * *

_Wishes on stars and four leaf clovers and dandelions never work..._

"Tara..."

The voice sounds strangely familiar, but in my sleepy state, I can't name the owner of the voice. For some reason, my heart rate quickens at the sound of that voice, and I think I'm smiling even though I'm half asleep. Who is that? I move over and just snuggle deeper into my blanket – it's probably Matz, or something, and I just can't recognize it because I'm sleepy. The person laughs. They have a low, warm laugh, unlike Matz' young boyish one. Suddenly, through my eyelids, I can tell that my curtains have been drawn...

Impossible.

"Good morning, Miss Tara."

Impossible.

Am I dreaming? Did wishing on a star actually work?

I fight the light to open my eyes. I am staring into brown eyes. The eyes of my best friend. I sit up slowly, not daring to look away from him, for fear that if I do, he'll disappear. I can hardly believe he's there, either way. I move slowly, standing in front of him for a moment.

He is smiling. "Didn't expect me, did you?"

I squeal. And then, tearfully, I cry, "Riegan!" and I fling my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I bury my face in his shoulder. I don't care how he got here, when he got here, _why _he is here – what matters is: he is here. Oh, geez, why am I crying? I don't remember ever being this happy.

"I'm right here, Tara, I'm right here," he keeps saying, and I want to laugh and say, _duh_.

What comes out instead is, "You have no idea how happy I am to know that." It sounds stupid because I'm sobbing, too. I smile wryly, still crying from stupid joy, and – oh, he's here!

His face nestles in my hair. I can hear him laughing a little. He murmurs, "Happy one-week-to-your-birthday, by the way."

Oh, right. I am fifteen in a week. "This... is going to be the second best birthday ever," I whisper. Of course the best one was when I received that painting that's hanging on my wall.

He laughs. "By the way, I'm everyone's birthday present to you... nice to know I'm still that special. Your family. My family. Felix. I can be my own birthday present to you, too. All of them chose me as a gift to you. I'm just missing the wrapping and the ribbons. I should tie my hair."

"Felix?" I say confusedly.

Riegan nods. "I've been thinking for a while if... how I would come back. I was thinking you would've moved on. Continue with him, have a new best friend -"

"How could I ever have a new best friend?" I interrupt disbelievingly, "when I've had you for one?"

"Well." He laughs. "I wouldn't know."

"Some best friend," I say, obviously joking.

He smirks. "Anyway, Felix emailed and told me how it really was. Begged me to come back. That settled it for me – but, really, I can't imagine why I left you in the first place. It was stupid."

"I can't believe I let something come between us. I can't believe I lied to you. I'm so, so sorry," I say, face returning to its spot on his shoulder. And because my arms are still tightly around his neck, I tell him: "I'm never letting you go, by the way."

He just smiles, raises me off the ground slightly, and then carries me downstairs, so I can't see where I'm going. I'm not surprised to find Mother, Father, Matz, and Riegan's family down there – but I don't _see _them, first. I am greeted by their laughter instead. Riegan whispers, "We have another surprise for you." He turns around, so I'm facing everyone, and I almost fall over. I'm glad I'm holding Riegan. I do squeal, though, causing Riegan to laugh and hit me lightly. I screamed right in his ear.

Lira Hawthorne, who was always an average-sized woman, sits next to Gale, who looks normal... but, the thing is... Lira has a rather bloated stomach. "Oh!" I cry, "you're pregnant!"

This brings on another round of laughs. Lira nods and says, amused, "Yes."

I almost let go of Riegan. "You're really, _really_ pregnant!"

"Six months, dear," she tells me, smiling. "Surprise."

"Oh!" I say, gaping. I say, again, stupidly: "You're _pregnant_!"

Lira laughs. "Yes, Tara."

"You're here! And you're pregnant! Congratulations!"

"Tara!" says Riegan, poking me, "get a hold of yourself!"

"Do you know if it's going to be a boy or a girl?" I ask, putting my feet down, but I'm still clinging to Riegan. I pull him over. I realize it's going to be quite a gap between the Hawthornes' new baby and Riegan … but I can imagine him as a good big brother. I mean, he basically is a great big brother. To Matz. And me. Sort of.

"No, we don't know yet. Don't want to know yet," says Lira. "Riegan and I are hoping for a boy."

"Well, then, I'm with Gale," I say. He puts his hand up for a high-five and I give it. I lean away from Riegan slightly so I can look at him. "If it's a girl, do you want to trade Matz?"

Matz looks insulted. "Hey!"

I giggle. "Sorry. I'm just joking, buddy." Then I get excited and I squeeze Riegan again. "Oh! You're _here_!"

Father and Mother both look wryly amused. Riegan pokes me again. He says, "Why don't we go thank Felix?" Oh, things are definitely looking up. My world has been fixed, and I am on top of it.

But then I realize something and I sigh. "But that means I'll have to change."

He bursts out laughing and kisses my cheek right in front of everyone. I blush. Our eyes meet, and his voice is very sincere when he tells me: "I promise, Miss Tara, I won't leave this time. I promise."

"I can hold him for you," Matz suggests.

"What? You can't take my word for it?" Riegan demands.

I laugh. "Yes, please, Matzo." Matz seizes Riegan and keeps him on a tight hold on the couch. "I'll be back in a sec." It takes a lot of self control for me not to skip back upstairs. I wash up and change with lightning speed, and I sprint downstairs, arms going around Riegan as soon as I see him. When I do see him, I feel a thrill, because while I was changing I believed that maybe I had dreamed it all up.

"See, Riegan?" says Mother, smiling. "This is what happens when you leave for too long. She won't leave you alone."

He laughs. My heart does excited little flutters to hear it. "I don't mind. Really. I don't." To me, he says, "Okay, piggy back. It's easier than carrying you like this."

I clamber up onto his back. "Giddy up, horsey."

"Want to come, Matzo?" asks Riegan, turning to him for a second.

Matz seems to do rapid, conflicted, thinking here. I get why. On one hand, he sent Riegan away. On the other, he brought him back. The latter seems to outweigh the first, so Matz nods and stands up. Matz and Riegan walk, I ride. The boys talk, but I think I'm silenced by my happiness. I lean my cheek on the back of his head, humming nonsense to myself.

"Hey, Tara, guess what?"

"Hmm?"

"I took music lessons," says Riegan, grinning.

"Did you, really? Music... what kind of music?" I ask. I recall, a year ago, with the Children of Warriors. Rysnna singing _So She Dances_, and then Riegan dancing with me, singing a certain verse of that song. I can easily imagine him singing... he's quite good, actually...

"Guitar," he replies.

"Guitar!" I echo. "You good?"

"I'd like to think so."

I grin. "You are so playing for me."

"But... you don't have a guitar," he says.

I feel a little strange when I inform him, "Antonius has one." Merging two different lives, I guess. That's what's weird.

He laughs. "Don't worry; I brought mine..."

"So you planned on playing for me anyway," I say, pleased. Because I know it. When he chuckles, I can tell that I'm correct. We don't have to look far for Felix, because he's perched on the fence, reading a magazine. I call out: "Felix!"

"Well, well, well!" Felix grins, sitting straight. "Look who's back."

Like old friends! What happened to the world while I was asleep? Riegan grins and they do a weird boy-kind-of-hugging-thing. I go berserk. "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_."

"What? You have issues with me hugging him?" Riegan asks.

I shake my head disbelievingly. "I need both of you to pinch me." So they do, and I look at them both resentfully. I was _joking_.

"I hate to start with the awkward question," says Felix, pulling himself back onto the fence, "but I'd like to get this over with. Where are we all standing?"

"_We _are friends," says Riegan to him, "since you brought me back."

"Yep. You're welcome."

With that, I let go of Riegan for a moment and hug Felix. "Thank you. So much. For bringing him back."

Felix smiles. "It was my pleasure, Tara." He raises a brow at me, and I know what he wants to ask.

I purse my lips. "We're all friends. Just friends."

Oh, well, that was a conversation killer.

Felix, however, has a gift of carrying on like nothing has happened. "Hey, Matzo, want to stay here with my brothers and me? Marcus got this train set and it's huge." He looks up at Riegan and me, and his eyes say it all. He understands. Today is just our day – mine's and Riegan's.

Matz nods, and Felix goes to lead him inside. "It's Matz, by the way. Not Matzo."

Riegan turns to me and smiles, once my brother and Felix have walked away. "Well, that's a good sign, no?"

I nod, and keep my arm around him. "Thanks for coming back, Riegan... I _am _sorry."

"Sh. Don't talk about it. I might run away again." I look up at him anxiously and see that he's joking, so I smile back.

The two of us go to the Meadow, and we lie down beside each other in the flower bed. His arm is still around me, and I have my head on his shoulder.

"Well, it's a lovely day," says Riegan, referring to the weather, I think. "Both the … content of the day and the weather." Aha. Nine months apart and he can still read my mind.

"The daytime is a liar," I say, wrinkling my nose. "The most horrible things can happen even when the sun's out, there's not a cloud in the sky..."

Riegan smiles. "Tell me about it."

Whoops. It was Riegan's favorite type of weather when he saw me kissing Felix. Stupid. I wonder if that's still his favorite type of weather? I continue on hastily, "I prefer the night-time."

"Why?"

"Because the stars and the moon and the darkness don't _promise _a great time, like fluffy clouds and rainbows do. The night-time says that things can be horrible, but you can always get out of it," I say. "Okay, I don't want to talk about it. Tell me about your life."

He talks to me about the nine months during which we had not been in correspondence. He talks to me about guitar, new friends, new teachers. He had a girlfriend. It only lasted a while. I ask him if she was beautiful. "Beautiful, but she wasn't anything like you," is his reply. I don't ask if he means appearance-wise or personality-wise. Probably the latter. I know I get along best with him. No point denying it. Cheekily, I ask if she was a good kisser. "Very good," he replies, with equal cheek.

I want to be a bit more teasing and ask if she's better than me, but that would be pushing it. Instead, I laugh and change tactics. "Was she Ysabel approved?" Ysabel, by the way, was one of the only people who never brought up Riegan when talking to me over the past few months. And she did talk to me. Quite often.

"Good question." He grins. "Well, Ysabel... liked her."

"Why'd it end?"

"I stopped liking her."

"Hm." I frown thoughtfully. "Okay."

"What about you?" he asks.

I shrug. "Nothing."

"Ugh. You insufferable little creature. I just poured out nine months of my life to you, and that's all you have for me?" he asks teasingly.

"Deal with it. My life wasn't any different, I guess. Aside from … you not being there. Everything else went on as normal." I grin. So, our conversation loses loquaciousness (**A/N: I learned that word from the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie) **and we lie there, watching clouds roll by. Later: "Do you remember last year, when Mother woke us up because she was screaming?"

"I can't forget that," says Riegan with a shudder.

"Do you know how I knew she would be all right?"

I feel Riegan turn his head to look at me. "How?"

"Father."

Riegan pauses. "Hm?"

"I don't know," I say thoughtfully. "Whenever they're scared, they always have each other. When Father has his hijacked moments, Mother always reminds him..."

"Reminds him...?"

"Well, when Father was hijacked the Capitol convinced him that Mother was a dirty mutt," I explain. "And Mother's always there to help him forget that. When she has _her _nightmares, she always screams and then Father's always right there..." I suddenly yawn, and realize that it's quite early in the morning.

"I always knew there was a reason I liked your parents," Riegan says, more to himself than to me, "and it _is _quite early, Tara. I woke you up at eight."

"Eight?" I yelp. In my excitement, I hadn't glanced at a clock.

"I couldn't sleep any longer, Miss Tara," he says, "I had to see you. And your reaction."

I yawn. "Okay, well, it's your fault, then..." I shift and rest my head on his chest. "Sorry if I drool."

"Nice try. We both know I'm the only one who drools in this friendship."

…

My eyes open after a while. Only, I don't realize it's after a while, because I didn't think I'd _actually _fall asleep. I don't move, though, because I wonder if Riegan's asleep. This was actually quite a comfortable position. Probably not for him. I grin to myself.

He is shaking my shoulder with the arm that's not around me. "Tara," he hisses.

"I'm already awake," I say. It comes out as a croak so I clear my throat.

"I have lost feeling in my arm, Miss Tara," he informs me.

"Whoops." I sit up and let him massage his arm. "Sorry."

He grins. "It's all right. You didn't drool, at least."

"How long was I asleep?"

"I dunno. I fell asleep five minutes after you did. And then I woke up to a pleasant smell of your hair beneath my nose and an unpleasant nothing in my arm."

I laugh. "How's the arm, now?"

He shifts his shoulder a little bit. "It's fine. C'mon, let's go back to your house. Stomach is rumbling. I think it's lunch time."

"Of course. Always trust the stomach."

So, the two of us walk back to my house, and into the kitchen where the good smell of food is wafting from. Mother and Greasy Sae are cooking. Matz, Gale, Lira, and Father are at the breakfast table; the adults sip mugs of coffee and Matz has a probably untouched glass of milk in front of him. Matz sees us come through the door and grins. "Father, they're here!"

I see that Father is holding his sketchbook, as well as two separate papers, which, even from afar, I can tell are identical of the page on his book. I pull Riegan closer and see the drawings. "Oh," I say, embarrassed.

"You were asleep a while," says Father, smiling. "And you stayed very still." He hands one of the copies to each of us.

It's just a black-and-white sketch. Just pencil and paper. I can recognize it, though. It's just Riegan and me, looking very comfortable in a bed of flowers. My arm had wrapped around him, his was wrapped around me. I also don't know whether it's real or whether Father just depicted it like that, but we're both smiling in our sleep.

Hm.

I smile. "I like it."

...

There are very few possible reasons as to why I, Tara Mellark, cannot sleep, because as you most likely know, I get along very well with sleep.

I have not taken a real, long nap today. At least, not a very _comfortable _one.

It's quite late, so I'm not out of my normal sleeping schedule.

I am fairly tired.

I sit up, giving up on stupid sleep – and then I see the painting and realize what's wrong. I have not been out of spitting distance from him for more than fifteen minutes today, and that was when we were showering. (Obviously in different showers, mind you. Pervert.) So I get out of bed and tiptoe into Matz's room. "Riegan?" I whisper, bending down beside his head.

He wasn't asleep. "Hey."

"I can't sleep," I say.

"What do you want me to do about that, exactly, my dear Miss Tara?"

Not responding, I crawl into the air bed beside him, pulling myself under the sheets. Riegan laughs a little at me – he's been doing that a lot – and he puts his arm around me. Relaxed, I settle into his arms and put my head on his chest. Same place it was this morning. Then I listen to his heartbeat. "Riegan?" I whisper.

"Mhm?"

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

I look up slightly. "Areyou in love with me?" I'm obviously getting sleepy. I wouldn't have asked that if I was in a right state.

Riegan pauses, and I hold my breath. He murmurs, "I love you, Miss Tara. I'm not _in _love with you."

"Okay," I say, but my eyes don't close, and I think he can see it. Then I add quietly, "I love you, too, by the way."

He begins to stroke my hair gently. I can _feel _him smiling. "Go to sleep, Tara," he murmurs. _Well_, I think, _just because you tell me that doesn't mean I'll do it_. For some reason, I just don't feel quite tired yet. That or I'm feeling uncomfortable. But I don't exactly feel uncomfortable... I just feel like there's something missing. Something I need to happen before I can sleep.

He adds silently, because he's Riegan and he and I apparently share a psychic link or something, "I'm right here. I'm not leaving you again. I'm right here, Miss Tara."

My eyes close.

* * *

:)

Yeah, I want my own Riegan, too.

**Remember to review! And don't just tell me to update, please. I already do that every day haha. Don't worry xD Oh, and _no _I still won't update twice a day. Tell me what you _think_.**


	26. That's How You Know

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

**

I find Riegan sitting by himself in the den, his arms on the back rest. The movie is a thriller, I think. (The current scene is of two burly, almost bald men, in all black, talking in unintelligible low tones.) Riegan is looking very intently at the screen, but the tense looks fades into a smile when he sees me. "Hey there, Miss Tara."

I smile back. "Hey." I step forward into the room and say, "Can we talk?" while simultaneously thinking, _pause it, Riegan_. Riegan glances at me, at the screen, and then presses "pause" on the remote. I stifle a giggle.

"Should I be worried? That conversation starter never means a good ending."

I laugh nervously. "Don't worry. I think."

Riegan nods. "I'm listening..."

So, I sit down, settling comfortably beside him. "I want to talk to you about last year. About... your birthday."

He inhales sharply. "I'm still listening."

"Tell me about how you felt."

He clears his throat. "Well... Tara... I don't like me being just a spectator in your life."

"You're not."

Riegan smiles and gives me the "don't interrupt" look. "You know that; I know that. But I wished it had shown, at my birthday. If … _if _you had kept it a total secret, from everyone, _maybe_. It would've been okay. Maybe. But everyone knew. Except me."

"Sorry," I whisper.

He laughs lightly. "It's okay. We're just talking, aren't we? And anyway, I've already forgiven you, haven't I?"

I nod, but I'm still a little embarrassed. "If I told you, would you – what would your reaction have been?"

Riegan frowns. "Imagine... me getting a girlfriend."

"Oh," I say, imagining awkwardness – but overall pleasure in knowing that he was happy with someone, "okay." I pause. "You wouldn't have been jealous?"

"No. I would have been jealous," he says, "but not in the way everyone might think."

"Explain?"

"Tara, I'm used to..." He stops and turns to me. "Tell me, has there anyone you've told more secrets to? Anyone else you've felt – anyone you've missed so much that you felt compelled to sleep beside, just to prove they were there?"

I smile wryly. "No."

"Exactly. I'm used to being 'that special person' in your life, Tara. A boyfriend, I know, would've removed that from me," he says, looking at me sadly. Riegan adds in an afterthought, "Selfish as that sounds."

I hug him and rest my cheek on his shoulder. "Not selfish, Mr. Hawthorne. Reasonable." I look him in the eyes and say fiercely, "And you were, are, and _always _will be that special person in my life, no matter what."

He gives me a bit of a hesitant look. But then he hugs me. "I'm a bit curious – what was your first impression of me?"

I laugh. "No, you first."

"I thought..." he frowns, closing his eyes. Trying to remember the moment, I guess. "I thought you looked very small. Really thoughtful."

"Pretty?" I ask, a little teasingly.

He smiles. "Mm... just a little. You're prettier now, though."

"Aha! So it _is _just beautiful inside," I say accusingly.

"No... I just didn't notice, first time around," Riegan explains. "Okay, now me. Go. And don't spare my feelings, I know your first impression of me wasn't exactly good."

"Well, that time in Hazelle's back yard, I thought you were uptight," I say thoughtfully, "but you didn't really get my respect until..."

"Our play date?" Riegan finishes for me.

I nod. "Yeah. Until then I thought you _looked _like a man, but you didn't _act _anything like it."

"I looked like a man?" He grins. I roll my eyes.

**(A/N: In response to your inquiries:)**

"One last question," I say slowly, after a thought.

"I'm still listening." Riegan smiles.

"The girlfriend, from a few months ago – was she Ysabel?"

Riegan blinks at me, expression blank. Then, he covers his mouth as if in shock. He holds up a finger, and gags slightly. "Ysa – Ysabel? Oh, my – excuse me – I just... I just threw up in my mouth a bit."

...

Rysnna Mason doesn't look so plain Jane as she used to. A necklace is around her neck, and there's the lightest of makeup on her. She's still as pretty as always, though, so … no matter. It's so weird for me to believe that she and Riegan are the same age – she looks so much older than him. She _acts _so much older than him. She looks as dreamy as ever.

Now eighteen-almost-nineteen, Finn Odair can hardly fit under the title of "children" anymore. Standing next to the petite Rysnna, he looks extremely tall. He's just less than half a head taller than Riegan, I know, and he can't really grow anymore. I haven't seen him in a while, which makes him look taller, I guess. His hair's darker and – oh, geez, he's been working out. It's pretty noticeable, too.

I stand up to hug them both. "Well, well, well. My most aesthetically pleasing friends." I grin and look at Rysnna. "How's it going, Rys?"

"Pretty good," she says. Her voice still catches me off guard. So light and airy and … in another world.

I turn around to Finn. "Still as handsome as ever, Mr. Odair, I see." This results in the familiar embarrassed face from Finn. I grin. Nice to know one of us still has our modesty.

"Oy!" Riegan calls out from behind me, "please, Miss Tara, have some mercy. Your best friend – who is a boy, I might remind you – is every bit as good looking as said Mr. Odair, and you never tell_him _that."

I roll my eyes. "Well, fine. My best friend's pretty darn good looking. Good-looking enough to attract a girl, at least. If only just for a few months."

"Burn," Rysnna sings.

"Yeah, you're lucky I like you," says Riegan threateningly to me. "And I broke up with her, remember?" He does stupid hand-clapping fist-pump nonsense with Finn (secret handshake that's not really secret). "Hey."

"Hey, Mr. Second-Best-Good-Looking," Finn says. Forget what I said about the modesty. I was wrong.

"_Don't_."

Finn smirks. "And I'm _almost _as strong as you now, I think."

"Almost being the key word!" Riegan protests. "I still have the better nose."

"I still have the better hair."

Rysnna looks to me. "Whose fault is this?"

"Mine," I admit. "I showed them their good sides."

She sighs. "I'll let you know when I forgive you." Then, she says, "Okay – music time! Riegan, play a song for me."

The rest of the afternoon is spent in the Meadow, with Rysnna teaching me songs. It's the first time I've listened to Riegan, too, and I can't judge, since I don't play guitar, but I _think _he's pretty good. I guess good for a few months of lessons. He also tells me that the notebook he carries around everywhere is for writing songs – but he won't let me listen to them. Yet. "Once I get a good one," he told me, "I promise, you'll be the first to hear it."

"Oh, your turn, Tara, I've been doing all the singing," says Rysnna, poking me. "Your turn to teach _me _a song."

Riegan gasps. "Oh, Tara, do that silly one Katniss taught us once."

"Silly one...?" He hums the first few lines. I shake my head. "No way. Not that one."

Finn starts humming now, too. "That one?" Riegan grins and nods. "Tara, sing it!"

"No!"

Riegan begins to sing in an obnoxious falsetto, "How does she know you love her?"

"No, Riegan."

"How does she know she's yours...?"

I sigh. "Fine. Sing the next part, and I'll sing with you."

"How does she know that you love her?"

I sing, "How do you show her you love her?"

And together:

_How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?  
__How does she know that you love her?  
__How do you show her you love her?  
__How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?_

I stand up and start dancing for them, too. It's a very happy song. So she dances... so _I _dance.

_It's not enough to take the one you love for granted  
__You must remind her, or she'll be inclined to say:  
_"_How do I know he loves me?  
__How do I know he's mine?"_

Riegan rips out a page from his notebook and scribbles something hastily.

"Well, does he little note to tell you, you are on his mind?" I sing. I laugh, because Riegan has shown me the note: _you are on my mind_. I give him a grin and I continue, "Send you yellow flowers when the sky is gray? - hey!" I accept the daisy he gives me with a smile. "He'll find a new way to show you, a little bit every day -"

_That's how you know,  
__that's you know, he's your love..._

Riegan begins singing, now, and dancing with me. "You've got to show her you need her; don't treat her like a mind reader. Each day do something to need her, to believe you love her!" I grin and sing on:

_Everybody wants to live happily ever after,  
__everybody wants to know, their true love is true...  
__How do you know he loves you?  
__How do you know he's yours?_

_Well, does he take you out dancing, just so he can hold you close?  
__Dedicate a song with words meant just for you? Ooh...  
__He'll find his own way to tell you,  
__with the little things he'll do!_

_That's how you know,  
__that's how you know!  
__He's your love..._

_That's how you know he loves you,  
__That's you know it's true!_

_Because he'll wear your favorite color,  
__just so he can match your eyes!  
__Plan a private picnic by the fire's glow, ooh!_

_His heart'll be yours forever,  
__something everyday will show!  
__That's how you know,  
__that's how you know..._

I laugh and pull away from Riegan. "I lost count. I don't know how many _that's how you knows _I was supposed to do. What do you think, Rysnna?"

She's laughing. "It's a _wonderful _song, Tara. I love it."

"It's a pretty ridiculous song," I mutter, but I'm smiling.

"I love it," Riegan announces. "What do you think, Finn?"

Finn's still shaking from suppressed giggles. "I love it, too."

"Really?" I shoot him a look.

"Yeah, really," he says, almost sincerely. "The meaning's there."

"What _meaning_?" I say, laughing.

Finn doesn't reply. Instead he sings under his breath, "That's how you know... he's your love..."

* * *

:P

Yeah, I'm a phail. Love y'all too. This was written hastily (I didn't even read it over once) and I need a badly written chapter of semi-fluff to fuel the need for a good one. Bye xD

**Review review review.**


	27. Prank and Punishment

Okay, okay. We're filling up with fluff until I can bring on the drama again – any complaints? :P

-sigh- I told myself I would _not _do this, but I did. -grimace- If you go to my profile, you'll find a link of a drawing of Tara and Riegan in the Meadow together, sleeping. Obviously done by me, and not Peeta Mellark. It'd be substantially more beautiful if Peeta did it.

Thanks so much, everyone, for reading and reviewing! :) It amazes me every day how this pleases so many people. _I_ wouldn't have clicked on this story, if I weren't writing it :P I'm not a fan of OCs – but what the hey? If you guys like it, I'm not complaining. ^_^

Enjoy! :) **Don't own the Hunger Games.**

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Riegan and I recently had a shouting match, because he proposed a boys' day and a girls' day, two days before my birthday. I hadn't been totally separated from him like that in four days – can you really blame me? But, he won the argument, so I'm right now with Rysnna, Elli, Trisha, Sal, and Sabina. Down the street, in Number Six of the Victor's Village, Riegan, Matz, Finn, Felix, and Felix's brothers are wreaking havoc. I guess.

"Idea!" cries Trisha, so suddenly that we all kind of jump. I look at her irritably and she continues on: "Let's prank them."

"Prank _boys_?" says Elli doubtfully.

Rysnna, who I don't think has ever had a truly rebellious experience in her life, nods. "Yes, it's totally possible. It's not like they're expecting it."

The idea of a prank tempts me. "Any ideas?"

"I imagine you'd know, actually," Sal says. "With your best friend being a boy and all."

I snicker. "What do you think I talk about with Riegan? 'Wouldn't this be a great idea for a prank, buddy?' No, not really."

"They ordered pizza," Sabina tells me. "I know, 'cause Felix asked Mommy if they could order pizza for today. We can put tons of hot sauce on it."

I stare at her in awe. "Where did you come up with -"

Sabina giggles. "I have four brothers?"

"Good point." I grin. I stand up and erase what's on my white board (a list of people coming to the birthday dinner). "We _can _do the pizza thing, but it's too tame. They won't know it's us, and they're boys. Their taste buds can withstand who knows what... it has to be something _memorable_. Putting hot sauce on their pizza... just a few seconds of pain. It has to be... extravagant." Okay, so maybe having Riegan, and a little brother, has been rubbing off on me. I write "pizza + hot sauce" on my white board.

I look back to them. "What else?"

...

Sabina runs back breathlessly to us. "They're in the living room, so that's -"

"- just over the backyard, above the porch," I say, frowning. Sabina nods.

"What about the pizza? Did Caelina do it?" Trisha asks.

"Yes," says Sabina, "but Tara, Mommy is calling them down to the kitchen. Is that close enough to the ground?"

I shut my eyes, trying to remember the floor plan of Number Six. "Yeah, I think so." Suddenly, my eyes light up. "Sabina, you have an oak tree right outside the living room window!"

"Yes," Sabina confirms, confused. "Didn't you know?"

"Oh, this is perfect," I say, excited. "Plan stays the same, only now we have time to sneak into the living room. I'll climb through the window for the living room set up. Okay. Go."

They all nod, and we disperse. They've all been given specific instructions on what to do – all little pranks: all little, mostly harmless pranks. They're going to follow me and set up the grand finale in the living room, so I go there first. I climb up the oak nimbly, and then peek through the window. Before climbing through myself, I shove the garbage bag filled with stuff into the room.

On the armchair, I spot Riegan's notebook, and leaning against the wall beside it is Antonius' guitar. On the couch, there's an empty trash can – probably, Finn or Felix used it as a drum. The stereo is on. They must have been listening to music... I stare at it, and I suddenly remember dancing with Felix to it – no! Stop it, Tara. I clench my hands and move on, because that's what I always need to do when it comes to Felix, frankly.

Working quickly, I set the notebook on the ground, fighting temptation to open it and read. I pull out a glue bottle from the bag and squirt it all over the seat, and then on the back of the seat as well. "Sorry, Riegan," I whisper to myself, smiling. I place a bunch of whoopee cushions beneath the couch's cushions, put a string of water balloons up above the door so that whenever someone opens it, the balloons will fall and go on the head. Inspired, I do the same sort of thing with the guitar and the notebook. Just a few last minute touches... hm, I guess the girls are busy, because they aren't showing up.

And then, my eyes inexplicably turn back to the stereo. A flood of happy memories come to me, but I shut them out. "Stop it," I whisper firmly to myself, but I move toward it anyway. Beside the speakers, there is a palm-sized remote and the CD of a rather loud band. Struck with an idea, I turn the knob on the stereo volume to the max, and pocket the remote.

Suddenly, through the slightly ajar door, a fluffy white dog comes in, barking. "No!" I hiss, "get out, Sammy!" It is the Domitilla family dog. Sammy's familiar with me, and jumps up, licking my face. "Go away!"

Frozen, I hear Felix's voice from down the hallway: "What is it, Sammy?"

No! I try and shove Sammy away, but he keeps barking and yelping. I try and get to the window, but Sammy keeps jumping on me. And then I hear someone scream from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Sabina? What's wrong?"

"There's a flying bug in the play room, Felix!" she shrieks. "Can you kill it?"

Felix laughs. I grit my teeth because of the nervous stomach flipping going on. _It's because you're afraid he'll catch you_, I try to tell myself . "Sit, Sammy," I hiss, and the dog obediently sets its butt on the ground. "Stay." I rush out the window, but keep it open. I hide in the branches, garbage bag slung over my shoulder. In one hand, there is the stereo remote. In the other, there is a camera. The other girls all have one, too. Except Sabina. Sabina is in charge of overall smooth execution.

Just then, the girls join me. Sabina is still inside. I grin down at them. "Come on up." Just then, beside Rysnna, I notice a darkening of the grass... mud. "Bring some of the mud up."

Elli, the only one familiar with the game, grins. "Awesome."

We sit together on the branches of the steady old oak tree, watching for when the boys come in.

Felix comes in first, with Matz shortly behind. The door bursts open. We all stifle our laughs. The balloons rip off their strings, shooting down at them and drenching Felix head-to-toe, getting Matz all down his front, and splashing Finn, Riegan, and Cassian.

Marcus and Antonius usher them all in. "_Don't_ touch anything," says Antonius wisely, just as Marcus begins to sit in Riegan's chair.

"No!" Riegan yells, but it's too late. Marcus is stuck. I feel bad, since Marcus is just a little boy – but of the brothers, I know he's not fragile.

I point my arm at the stereo, and then press play on the remote.

I can feel the bass from the tree. Everything around me is thudding. They're all covering their ears. I can hear Finn yell, "WHERE'S THE REMOTE?"

"THE WHAT?" Cassian, the only one who hears him, yells back.

"THE REMOTE!" shouts Finn.

"WHAT?"

Riegan runs over to the stereo and shuts it off. I giggle. He surveys the rest of the room. "Tara," he says loudly. I see the boys look befuddled. He bends down beside the notebook. "Tara's work. I know her. This room was hers. The rat traps and the tripping and the hot sauce … not her ideas. This was hers..."

"How, exactly, do you know this?" asks Felix. I can't help but notice a somewhat condescending tone to his voice.

He pokes the notebook. "She didn't damage the notebook. She knows it's important. Nobody else knew that."

"So? They might just think it's not worth..." Felix scoffs a little. "You _don't _know her as well as you think you do, Riegan." He's never usually this nasty... in fact, he and Riegan have been getting along magnificently lately.

Riegan looks disbelieving and resentful. "Then why -" He pulled the notebook off the ground, triggering another water balloon to shoot at him from above. He embraces it, though, and he's drenched. "- are these specific items -" Riegan takes a step to the right and pulls at the guitar, which makes a stool collapse onto his knees, and then his toes, "- booby trapped?" Riegan sits on the floor abruptly, massaging his feet.

"Coincidence," Felix mutters.

"Wrong again, my friend," says Riegan, observing his surroundings. "Hey, Matzo, have you lost your whoopee cushions?"

"What?" Matz stares at him, as if Riegan's gone crazy.

Riegan rolls his eyes and jumps up onto the couch. A cacophony of farting noises come out from beneath his feet. "What else?" he says thoughtfully, jumping down and looking around him. "Tara, what else have you touched?"

He uncovers everything I did in the room. All the hidden strings, the sticky spots – everything. I stare in disbelief.

"Whoa," says Sal, when he's finished setting off all my traps. All the girls turn to me.

"It's not _that _amazing," I say irritably. "Anyone could guess -"

"- no, they couldn't," Trisha interrupts.

"Just shoot."

Hesitantly, they all throw the balls of mud in their hands. But Riegan's eyes were on the stereo. His eyes widened suddenly, a split second before the girls threw. "Duck!" he yells, pulling down Felix and Matz beside him. Obediently, everyone shoots down to the ground. The mud-balls fly past the back of their heads, and I cross my arms.

I slip through the window and shoot Riegan a dirty look. "I spent _time _on this room, you know. How did you -"

Riegan smiles his smile, smugly. "Only way you could have turned on the stereo is if you were right outside the window, and you wouldn't have been happy that I guessed all your traps. So, last resort..." He motions to the splatters of mud on the floor.

"I hate you."

"Of course you do, Miss Tara." Riegan smirks. "Come on. Give your intelligent buddy a hug..." He opens his arms to me, and I stare at his wet torso.

"No, no, no -" I run off in the opposite direction.

He laughs. "Sore loser." He catches up to me and I get wet from the hug. I make a face.

"How's your mouth?" I ask scathingly, but not really. I can't be mad at him.

"Wonderfully on fire," Finn tells me wryly. "I got the first bite, so no one else got to experience that."

"Great. Thanks for ruining everything, you guys," I say, but I'm smiling.

Felix laughs. Again, I'm confused – he was kind of mean a second ago. He says, "Well, it was a good try, anyhow."

I roll my eyes. "Right. Now, Mr. Hawthorne, kindly let go of me."

"Why?" he asks, tucking my head beneath his chin.

It takes a lot of effort for me to pull away. I laugh. "It's a girls' day for me," I tease. I sigh. "I guess we're back to the drawing board, girls?"

"Back to the drawing board," agrees Rysnna.

...

"Tara."

My eyes open, and Riegan's bending over my bed. I smirk and whisper, "What are _you _doing here, Mr. Hawthorne?"

It's still girl's only/boy's only day, and I've faithfully followed the rule. Around me in several sleeping bags are all of my girl friends (except Sabina, who felt uncomfortable sleeping even just down the road from her parents). In Matz's room, Finn, Riegan, and Felix are sprawled all around Matz's bed.

Riegan rolls his eyes at me. "Shoot me. I got used to your presence and now I can't sleep."

I grin and turn to him when he lies down beside me. "So, how are you going to sleep when you go back home, you little weakling?"

"I already am home," he replies, "and I'll deal with it somehow. I'll get a huge pillow."

I roll my eyes and yawn. Half my face sinks into the pillow, and I'm snuggling close to him for the warmth. "Good night, Riegan."

"Good night, Miss Tara."

…

I am awoken by eight pairs of eyes, staring right down at me. I scream and I almost fall off the bed, but Riegan, who doesn't share my lack of coherence in the morning, grabs me before I do. I look up at all of them, lying back down on the bed. "Geez. A simple 'wake up' would have sufficed..."

"Somebody's broken the rules!" cries Matz.

"'Twas me," says Riegan, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I couldn't sleep."

Elli, Trisha, and Sal practically swoon. I roll my eyes and sit on the edge of the bed. "Weakling!" Matz accuses, pointing a finger at Riegan.

"Yeah, I am," Riegan admits easily. "And, anyway, it was a girl's only, boy's only _day_, not night..."

"It still counts," says Finn. "It's why we all slept over."

"So, what exactly are you planning to do to us?" asks Riegan.

I turn to him sharply at the 'us'. "Hey. You came to _me_."

"You let me." Riegan smirks.

I scowl. Rysnna nods matter-of-factly. "That's right. You ought to be punished, too."

"Punished?" Riegan and I say together.

"Punished," confirms Matz loudly.

"That's not fair -" Riegan begins.

"Let's take a vote," Trisha suggests. "All those in favor of punishment for Mr. Riegan Hawthorne and Ms. Tara Mellark?"

"That's not fair!" I cry, even before the eight hands shoot up.

Elli shakes her head. "Democracy wins!"

I turn desperately to Felix, who hasn't said anything. "Felix?"

"Punishment," he says stiffly.

"Okay, fine," I say haughtily. I stand up. "Bring it."

Finn frowns. "Wait. We have to decide. You guys get out."

I can hardly believe I'm being kicked out of my own room, but Riegan and I walk out, anyway. The two of us sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. "It shouldn't be that bad," Riegan says thoughtfully. "I mean, we'll probably get the same punishment, won't we?"

"I guess." I nod. "Then it'd be funner."

"At least."

We sit there without talking for a few moments. I listen intently for what they're saying, but their words are muffled. Felix's voice gets raised a few times. Finn argues. The girls argue. Felix yells again. _I don't like it_, he said. I try and glance at Riegan to see if he heard, but he's still looking off into space, so I guess he hasn't heard. The talking gets quieter, and the door bursts open.

"Okay, we've decided," says Elli, eyes shining.

Riegan and I exchange looks. We walk back inside, and Trisha hands us a paper. The words are written in Rysnna's neat cursive. I take the paper and begin to read. I am immediately disheartened by the amount of hearts doodled on the page. Riegan peers over my shoulder. He mutters, "You've got to be kidding."

_**Riegan and Tara's Punishment**_

_For 24 hours, you are going to pretend that you are dating._

_This involves:  
__1. hugging (shouldn't be a problem)  
__2. kissing on the cheek (shouldn't be a problem)  
__3. daily dose of your sweet best-friendish (but not anymore referred to as "best friendish") talking. (Compliments, your "innocent" "I love you"s.)  
__4. keep up your sweet, romantic dancing and singing thing. It's beautiful. If you have an audience, more points.  
__5. hand holding (may or may not be a problem)  
__6. not just kissing on the cheek. That's right. A minimum of five __**(5)**__ kisses on the __**lips**__. They can't all just be in a row, too. It has to be at legit times.  
__7. telling people who ask that __**yes**__, you are dating (you can't tell them that it's just for punishment/dare/whatever.) There must be no explanation. To __**anyone**__._

_If unsuccessful, more hours will be added to your punishment. We __**will **__be watching for failures! Failure to complete or even attempt the punishment will result in mud-throwing. That's right. From all of us. We have punishment for the punishment ready._

_24 __**waking **__hours, by the way. You can't do your stupid sleeping-in-the-same-bed thing. It doesn't count anymore._

_Those 24 hours start at 1:00 today._

_If you exceed expectations, hours will be deducted from your punishment. If you keep up the 24 hours, you are allowed to punish four out of the eight of us._

_**For 24 hours, you are going to pretend that you are dating.**_

–

-giggles-

I think it's pretty stupid, haha. It sounds like one of those desperate fanfictions that just _begs _for a story and a plot – but it also sounds like it's going to be fun, so...

**Review!**


	28. Hours 1 Through 11

Annie, that song! It's ridiculous how much it fits! It's lovely, too. I'll try and find a way to fit it in somehow :) It just _works_.

**As always, the Hunger Games is not mine.**

**

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**

"You've got to be kidding!" Riegan bursts out again.

"Yeah, seriously, guys?" I ask, dropping the paper, and then picking it up. "This is … this is …"

"The majority," Elli says firmly, "has spoken."

"Twenty-four hours!" I cry. "My birthday's tomorrow!"

They don't looks sympathetic at all. Trisha says, "Well, then." They all give me their last few sentiments – "good luck", "sorry for you", all that – and then they leave the room, leaving me alone with Riegan..

I shove the paper in Riegan's direction and say irritably, "First they wake me up at 8:30 in the morning, when they don't have to, and then this..."

"Aw, come on, what's going to be different about our relationship, really? We can just go along as we always do," says Riegan, glancing at the paper. "With... a few exceptions." It's funny how true that is – we can be practically dating, except we tell people we're not, and we don't kiss. Or hold hands.

I jab my finger on the paper, at the last two numbers. "That. That's annoying."

"We've kissed before."

"Not – not like that!" I splutter. I can't believe he's taking this so easily. Nearly three years of telling people that _no_, we're not dating, _yes_, we're just friends, _no_, that kiss meant nothing, _yes_, I love him, but only like a brother. All ruined! With one day. "And that was once, and -"

"Okay, okay." He laughs.

I seize the paper. "We have to _tell people _that we're dating. What, then, Riegan? How are we supposed to get around that rule?"

"We can always just … take the punishment's punishment," Riegan suggests tentatively.

"Mud throwing?" I ask doubtfully. "Maybe..."

Riegan frowns. "I just feel like it's too tame. That _can't _be all they have."

"Which is why we can't just chicken out," I say, huffing. "Oh, what a birthday."

"Tara, don't make it any worse than it really is." He laughs again. "Really. It shouldn't be that bad."

I'm suddenly feel a chill run down my spine. "Oh, no! What about our _parents_? What are we going to tell them, then?" I gasp and begin pacing, talking before Riegan can interrupt me: "Riegan, what about _after_? What if they're happy about it? What if they – what if they – and then we have to tell them it's not real – and, oh, no -"

"Tara!" Riegan seizes my shoulders and laughs. "Stop! We'll worry about it later, okay?"

I sigh and hug him, stuffing my face in him. "Okay..."

"Breathe, Miss Tara."

I inhale. He smells like my bedsheets. "Breathing."

"Good. Now. Breakfast?"

"Breakfast."

–

Riegan and I sit together in the den after lunch, watching that movie that he was watching a few days ago. I sit on one end of the couch, leaning on the arm rest; his body is sprawled all over the other. Matz walks in just then. "Punishment starts now," he says, pointing at the clock. Elli, Finn, Rysnna, and Felix show up behind Matzo.

"Um, okay?" I say, looking at them, bored.

Elli clears her throat. "Not good enough."

I roll my eyes. Riegan sits up. He puts his arm on the back of the couch and I move over, fitting myself in his side. "Good enough?" I ask, still bored.

"No."

"Geez." I move over to sit on his lap. "There?"

"Perfect." Elli grins.

They move away, but I can bet that one of them is just waiting outside, for us to break the rules. Riegan and I don't continue talking. I rest my head on his shoulder and watch the movie go on – but nothing really happens. I'm amused, actually – this is less eventful than I expected to be. This brings it down to about twenty-two hours, almost.

Elli bursts into the room. "You guys are the most _boring _couple in the world. That's it. You're going on a date."

"The movie's almost done!" Riegan protests. I giggle.

Elli scowls. "When it finishes, you're going on a date. To Tess' burger place near Abel's."

"I'm not paying," I say cheerfully. Riegan snickers.

"I'm not, either," Riegan adds.

"You're both paying!" Elli exclaims. "Goodness..."

I laugh and look to Riegan. "Feeling like being chivalrous?"

He snickers. "Nice try... we're both paying."

And so, as soon as the movie is finished, Riegan and I leave the house (hand-in-hand), and walk through District Twelve to get to Tess' burger place. The handy thing about having a small community is that we don't get much questions. The few people who only know us but don't talk to us assume that we're already dating anyway, so there aren't any questions, and we only come across a fair few who have heard the "we're not dating" thing. When we sit outside on the deck of Tess' burger place, with fat, juicy burgers set in front of us, Riegan tells me smugly, "I told you it wouldn't be that bad."

"We haven't kissed yet," I say darkly.

He smirks. "What - I'm a bad kisser?" I roll my eyes - but then I realize that is the _only _really legit excuse why I should be dreading kissing him. And fact is, I don't think he's a bad kisser. The only other excuse I can come up with is that kissing Riegan is weird, but, unfortunately, it isn't ... really ... weird. He nudges my leg under the table with his foot. "Well? Bad kisser or not?"

"Decent kisser," I reply, shrugging.

"Better than Felix?"

I step on his foot. "Riegan!"

He laughs. "Well, am I?"

"It doesn't matter," I mutter.

"He still likes you," Riegan tells me, munching on his burger, even though both of us have an idea that one of the eight people are spying on us to see if we're holding up with the punishment. And it might be Felix. "I can tell."

"How so?"

Riegan shrugs. "You never really broke up, Tara. You just fell apart. And don't lie - you've noticed it too. If I noticed it, and I barely know him, then you definitely will. You know him better than I do."

That's true. "Yes, I've noticed," I say quietly.

"So, what do _you _think?" he asks reluctantly.

"About?"

"Felix."

I shrug. "I think... I need to move on."

"Why? Do you still like him?" he interrogates.

"Because nothing can come between us again," I say firmly.

Riegan leans back in his chair, putting down his burger. He crosses his arms. "So, are you taking a vow of celibacy or are we getting married someday?"

The question throws me off. I look up sharply and stare at him. I can't tell if he's serious or not. I can't tell if this is for the purpose of our punishment, or ... if he's actually ... I look down. "Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, it does, Tara." Riegan leans forward. "I see a couple things. One, we're going to be best friends forever and ever. Single, forever, and ever - always, just friends, not getting married, or children, never... well, always just friends. Two, one of us falls in love with someone else, and we fall apart." Number two sounds awfully familiar. Separated from Riegan... two decades... I shake the idea out of my head. "Three, _we _fall in love. Tara, _that _is nothing ever coming between us, and I'm not sure if that's what you want."

Have we already fallen in love? I want to whisper, because I don't know the answer to that question, and I don't know if _this _is real. "I don't know, Riegan," I say, resignedly, "and right now, it's number one." _I'm not sure if that's what you want_, he had said. Is it what _you _want, Riegan?

"Okay, then." He sits back again. "Oh, and remember, we're supposed to be madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

I laugh, and lean over the table to give him a very brief kiss. "There you go, Mr. Hawthorne." Hm... his request sounds familiar...

"Thanks." He smiles. "Kiss one down, four to go. Was that a legit moment? Does it count?"

I realize why his words sounded familiar. "Mhm." I nod, biting the last few bites of my burger. "Because that's what Father told Mother in the first Games."

"Was it, really?"

I smile. "You didn't know?"

"I swear, I didn't." He looks amused.

But him saying that - the same thing Father told Mother all those years ago - makes me wonder... Riegan, is it all for game, how you're acting?

...

Riegan and I have been trying with all our might not to come across Mother, Father, Gale, or Lira, but it was kind of inevitable; the others got the idea that we were avoiding them, so, of course, they brought us to our parents. "It's going to be obvious to them," I had told them, "if we just go up to them and say, 'we're dating now'."

"Well, then don't go up to them just saying that," Finn said. "Tell them: 'Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you.'"

"But it's just going to come out of nowhere," Riegan pointed out. "Why would we just ... suddenly start dating? We need a back story, or something."

"You need a _back story_?" repeated Felix incredulously. "_You guys_ need a back story? No, you don't."

I sighed. "Okay, you don't know our parents like we do - they're going to be suspicious. They're not _stupid_."

"Who cares? It's only a masquerade for a day and you can explain everything to them later, anyway, right?" Felix shot back. "Just... keep them suspicious, then. At least they'll know something's up, right?"

"No!" cried Elli. "It has to be convincing!"

Rysnna spun around to us. "Make them catch you kissing. That'll be two out of your five kisses, right?"

And so, here we are. "Did you ever imagine we'd do this?" I ask Riegan tiredly, as we stand together outside the kitchen. "This is so..."

"So...?" Riegan looks at me with a brow raised.

"Fake," I sigh.

Riegan smiles. "Well, would you rather it was real?"

"Surprisingly," I reply slowly, "yes."

"Yes?" Riegan stares at me.

"I mean, in comparison to this," I answer hastily. "I'd rather it was real rather than it was fake, Riegan." I give him a sidelong glance. "Would you rather this than real?"

"No, I'd prefer it was real," Riegan replies.

And then the silence comes again. Thoughtfully, I ask, "If I were to shorten your name, would it be _Rie_, or _Rieg_?"

"Rieg," he replies. "Rie sounds feminine."

"Okay, Rie."

Sal comes around the corner just then. "They're coming," she hisses. "Get ready."

"This feels so annoyingly staged," I mutter.

"You prefer kissing me when it's real?" he asks smugly. He's just teasing now.

I roll my eyes and go on my tiptoes to kiss him, just waiting for them to walk in. Riegan kisses back dutifully, because really, that's all it is. This is what we're supposed to be doing for punishment. Why are we doing this? Why can't we just take punishment? _Would _I prefer this to be real? Why am I so bothered by this? It's not like it's really that awkward. Is it because I don't want it to be fake? I wonder if this is what Mother felt like during the Hunger Games...

"Whoa!"

Riegan and I jump apart, both wearing convincingly surprised faces. He says, "Dad!"

"_That _wasn't for an audience, was it?" he asks, dumbstruck.

Shame-faced, we don't reply. "What's going on?" Mother asks, coming in to the archway between the kitchen and the rest of the house.

"I just walked in to what I think was a make o -" Gale begins.

"Ew," I burst out, "don't call it that."

"You were kissing?" Mother says, flabbergasted.

"Define... kissing..." Riegan mumbles slowly. He's very good at this. I have to hide my smile.

"Were _her_ lips touching _your_ lips?" Mother inquires slowly, as if talking to a five year old.

"Yeah," Riegan replies.

"And... you were kissing him back?" Mother turns to me. I nod, looking down at the ground. "For how long have you guys been...?"

At last! Something I can say truthfully. "Just for ... twenty four hours." That's how long it's going to be for, anyway.

"You've been counting?" says Gale incredulously.

Aw, wrong move. "No," I reply. "It's just a day. Just... a day."

Riegan looks at them curiously. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No!" says Lira, smiling. "We love it, actually."

Oh, no.

"You... do?" I ask weakly.

"Yeah," says Mother with a smile, "we've been waiting for you guys to ... well. We've been waiting for this to happen for a long time."

"You have?" I am so coherent today. Inside, I am raging, _you wanted this to happen for a long time?_

"You look very nice together, dandelion," Father tells me sincerely.

_What happened to me being too young to have a boyfriend?_ I yell in my head. "Thanks," I say, voice quiet and helpless. Maybe we should just take the punishment. Father seems so earnest. If I were to tell him now that it's not true... what will he say, then? I can't even imagine his face when I tell him it was fake.

Well, this is fake, right? Is it?

Is it?

* * *

Part 2 of the Punishment coming soon! :)

**Review!**


	29. You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

ZOMG GUYS, 500 REVIEWS! YOU ROCK :D

Okay, so I just wrote a chapter during which the Hawthorne Baby is born. I'm not telling you if it's a girl or a boy (you can probably guess), but the name is significant. Three syllables, starts with a "C" :) Take your guesses. I won't guarantee that I'll tell you if you're right, though ;)

:P The error messages are going to be the death of me. I'm seriously tempted to send an email to support saying "YOUR WEBSITE IS CURRENTLY BEING A GIANT POOP HEAD." I must have had to wait for the error messages to go away for about 20 fics now. Honestly.

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

–

I wake up to lips pressed against mine.

"Happy birthday, Miss Tara."

I smile, yawn, and say sleepily, "That makes three?"

Riegan laughs. "That makes three. We're down to thirteen hours, now, by the way, so at eleven o'clock, you and I are _free_."

I count backwards and glare at him. "It's eight o'clock?"

"Well, did you want this to go on 'til midnight?"

I sigh and sit up. "I guess not."

"And, remember, _I _am the gift this year," Riegan reminds me, taking my hand as I rise, "that, and I have a surprise for you after dinner."

I wrinkle my nose. "I feel really guilty."

"Why?"

"Because your gifts are always flawless, and then on your birthday, I messed up badly," I say guiltily.

"One, I've already forgiven you. Secondly, your gift was flawless, too. Three, let's not talk about it, please?" He smiles at me.

"Sorry."

When we get downstairs, I'm greeted by a band of party blowers. "Happy birthday!"

Of course, the Punishment Police is there: Elli, Trisha, Sal, Rysnna, Finn, Felix, and my brother. And then there's Mother, Father, Gale, Lira, Grandmother, and Annie. I laugh.

"Thanks, everyone," I say, "that was a brilliant alarm clock."

Riegan's arms go around my waist from behind and he leans his lips close to my ear. "Better than my alarm clock for you?" he whispers. I laugh – but this is a weird moment... we are pretending, after all. Again, I'm confused. Are we? He turns me around and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Okay, where's my breakfast militia? Let's go." Elli and Finn follow him into the kitchen.

I find that my fingers are lingering on the spot he kissed me. _Let's not play pretend, please_, I think to myself as the others bring me into the living room, where my gifts are gathered.

Elli whispers to me, "He's pretty convincing, actually. That looked very real."

I turn to Elli helplessly. "What if it was?"

"What?" She looks at me in surprise. "Do you think it was?"

"I don't know!" I say exasperatedly. "It was like that for me all yesterday, too."

"Yes, Rysnna and Felix told me about your awkward conversation yesterday," says Elli, nodding. So Felix _was _listening. His face flashes in my mind: upset, hurt. At least, I think. "But you did say number one, right?"

"Yeah," I reply hesitantly.

"I was hoping that you'd figure it out, actually," Elli tells me reluctantly. She glances hastily at my parents. They're talking by the window with Annie.

I frown. "Figure out what?"

"If you feel something for Riegan," she admits. "More than friendship."

"Elli!" I say resentfully, "I can't believe you would -"

"I didn't mean for you to get upset," she says, and she's so sincere that I'm not quite angry at her anymore, "I just wanted to know if you did."

I groan. "And I'm just more confused, now..."

–

The Punishment Police have cleared out a portion of the backyard for dancing.

It's not hard to guess the motive.

I watch as they all file through the backyard fence; I go through my tradition of greeting and thanking and instructing. This dinner is what District Twelve always does for birthdays – at least, after the rebellion. It's been tradition for as long as I've been alive, anyway. It never really grows tedious, especially since I'm very close with my neighbors. Riegan, still masquerading (I think), has his arm around my shoulders as they come in. He's also wearing matching clothes with me. We're both wearing yellow. We responsibly answer "yes" to the you-know-what question. We respond "thank you" to the congratulations, or the "I knew it would end up like this!" comments. Inside, though, we're fuming. At least, I am.

"Urgh," I say, once they're all in the backyard.

Riegan makes a face. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

"What's going to happen after?" I demand. "Will we have broken up?"

He nods, and he smirks at me. "I'm really sorry, Tara; it's just not working out..."

I giggle. "Can we still be friends?"

"I think so," he says solemnly. We're silent for a second, and then we laugh.

I notice, out of the corner of my eye, Haymitch looking up at us. He moves over to us, and then, he says in a way that's too genial to be real, "Happy birthday, Tara."

"Thanks," I say, looking up at him suspiciously.

"I noticed you dropped the sword," Haymitch comments.

I nod awkwardly. "I don't have any use for it."

"Hm." Haymitch just gives me a piercing, studious look. "So, how long did you two plan to keep up this fake relationship?"

"How'd you figure it out?" Riegan exclaims.

Haymitch shrugs. "I've seen it before." He looks at me. "See me after he's done." When Haymitch said "he", he nodded his chin toward Riegan.

"Done what?" I say, but Haymitch has left. I look up at Riegan. "Done what?"

"He must mean the surprise after dinner," Riegan muses.

I grin up at him. "Any clues for me?" He just laughs and shakes his head.

And suddenly, a cloud goes over Riegan's face. "Who invited _her_?" I don't even need to look to know who Riegan's talking about. Standing at the gate is Teenan – and just Teenan. She waves at us cheerfully. I stare back at her in confusion.

"Well, look at this happy couple," she chirps in an annoying, probably fake, blithe voice. She comes up to us. "Happy birthday, Miss Tara!"

"Only Riegan calls me that," I correct stiffly. "Um, _what _are you doing here, Teenan?"

"I promise, I won't be a nuisance this year," says Teenan innocently, not answering my question. Before I can shoot another question at her, she goes off to greet some of our mutual friends, dropping off a small, flat, rectangular box at the gift table before she does. I give Riegan an incredulous look, and he gives me a similar expression back.

"Tara," says Father, coming up to me, "would you like to blow out your cake, now?"

"Sure."

Felix suddenly is beside me. "I'll get it."

And just shortly after he disappears through the door, Teenan says, "I'll go help."

Perplexed, I escape from Riegan's arms and say, "I'll go, too." I stop at the corner between the hall and the kitchen, and I eavesdrop.

"Need help?" Teenan.

Felix sounds agitated. "Tee..."

Tee? A _nickname_? I think about the past few months... I've been avoiding Felix, and I've always left Teenan alone, so I guess I've never noticed if there was any... _change _in their relationship. Impossible. He wouldn't do that. Well, he doesn't really know... but no, I'm sure Elli or Trisha or Sal would have told him that I don't like Teenan. And Riegan and I brought her up that first day. Felix _knows _I don't like her.

"What are you doing here?" he says, sounding frustrated. "I told you not to come."

Teenan scoffs. "As if I'm going to let you be at a social gathering with your ex-girlfriend."

I ignore the pang that comes to me as being referred to as Felix's ex-girlfriend.

"Teenan," Felix says, and I can hear the amusement – and – and – I refuse to believe that is an _affectionate _tone; "you're jealous?"

No!

"No!" says Teenan, and I cover my mouth to hide the relieved sigh. "Well, yes." What? No!

"Don't worry -"

"Don't worry?" Teenan repeats, sounding a little hysterical, "come on, Felix. _You're _good-looking, _she's _kind of pretty, and I know you've been regretting inviting back Riegan ever since he's been here. I know you're jealous of him."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" insists Teenan. "Stop lying to yourself!"

Felix sounds angry. "I'm not!"

"Will you stop? I'm not _stupid_, you've been telling me how annoyed you are at both of them. I know you're not really annoyed at Tara. I know you've never stopped liking her." Teenan's voice lowers to a resentful mutter. "I should have known that."

"No, Teenan..."

"Oh, please." Teenan changes her voice, mocking: "'Riegan's probably so happy that this is the punishment', 'I can't believe they all want Riegan and Tara together', 'she doesn't even _like _him like that, she said so to me'. Face it, Felix. You still like her and you're just using me as replacement."

The alarms are blaring in my head. No, no, no, no!

Felix has no response, and I poke my head around the corner. "Whoa - !" I say, hand clapping over my mouth.

Their lips are locked together.

I wonder if this is what it feels like to walk in on Riegan and me kissing?

"Tara!" says Felix, flustered.

"Um, wow. Yeah. Right. Well, I'll see you guys down there," I say, keeping my voice cool and emotionless. I don't think I care, anyway. At least, I do care that my _ex-boyfriend _is dating _someone I really, really hate_. That's it.

I take the cake and bring it out. Felix doesn't call after me. Teenan, especially, doesn't. Riegan slides in beside me as I place it on the table. "What took you so long?" he whispers.

"Nothing," I reply stiffly. The image is imbedded in my mind and I want to forget it.

_Happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Tara –_ Riegan says, "happy birthday, Miss Tara" instead – _happy birthday to you..._

I take a deep breath and try to blow out the fifteen candles. There is only one left. I grin at Riegan, squeezing his hand. "Blow it out with me." Riegan laughs. I close my eyes, inhale once more, and blow, while thinking: _Real, or not real? _

Yeah. That's my wish. Help me figure out if it's real or not real, birthday candle.

"Tara! Come on, dance with Riegan!" cries Trisha. Sal pulls us to the center of the "dance floor". Naturally, the song is slow, first.

"Aw," I say, laughing, "slow?"

"Yes," says Trisha firmly from the CD player.

Riegan laughs lightly. "Funny they should pick this song..." Our arms go around each other.

I look up at him curiously, swaying. "Why?"

"You'll see."

_I got a funny feeling  
__The moment that your lips touched mine  
__Somethin' shot right through me  
__My heart skipped a beat in time._

_There's a different feel about you tonight  
__It's got me thinkin' lots of crazy things  
__I even think I saw a flash of light  
__It felt like electricity..._

I listen to the lyrics, and my brow is furrowed. I meet Riegan's gaze and he gives me a wry smile. "We haven't gotten to the weird part yet," he murmurs to me, and I frown. Partly because he knows that this song has an uncomfortable connection to the truth, and partly because the song isn't "weird" yet.

_You shouldn't kiss me like this,  
__Unless you mean it like that,  
__'cause I'll just close my eyes,  
__and I won't know where I'm at._

_We'll get lost on this dance floor,  
__spinning around  
__and around and around and around_

Yeah, that _is _weird...

Riegan starts singing softly, and I decide that singing is his thing. I think I prefer dancing. "They're all watching us now..."

_They think we're falling in love,  
__They'd never believe we're just friends...  
__when you kiss me like this,  
__I think you mean it like that._

His eyes are locked firmly on mine when he basically whispers, "If you do, baby, kiss me again..." I can't look away from him.

_Everybody swears,  
__we'd make the perfect pair  
__but dancing is as far as it goes_

_Girl, you never moved me,  
__quite the way you moved me tonight  
__I just wanted you to know...  
__I just wanted you to know._

Riegan grins at me and pulls me away, twirling me because the song is at its instrumental. It's "climax". I laugh, twirling for him. And then the song quiets again and he pulls me back to him:

_You shouldn't kiss me like this,  
__unless you mean it like that,  
__'cause I'll just close my eyes,  
__and I won't know where I'm at._

_We'll get lost on this dance floor,  
__spinning around,  
__and around, and around, and around..._

_They're all watching us now,  
__they think we're falling in love.  
__They'd never believe we're just friends._

_When you kiss me like this,  
__I think you mean it like that,  
__If you do, baby, kiss me again._

_Kiss me again..._

I go up on my toes and kiss him – but I'm not sure if it's real or not. I ignore the fox whistles and cat calls from my classmates and friends, but I'm still blushing. When I lean away, during the little tinkling piano part at the end, I think he looks wary and questioning. But I don't know if it's real either, Riegan... I whisper, "That's four."

He laughs quietly and nods. "One more to go."

–

At half past ten, Riegan covers my eyes with a bandana and then leads me to the surprise. I've already deduced that it's sort of the same as what I did last year. Time with him. That's his gift this year, I'm sure. "Ta da!" he says, removing the bandana. I blink and let my eyes adjust. I smile. A picnic, beside a campfire. "We're let off punishment, too. So, congratulations, Miss Tara – you made it."

I grin. "Congratulations to you too, Rie."

"No!" he whines. "Rieg. Please?"

"Nope," I say, popping the "p". Then I shake my head. "Never mind. It sounds funny. You're Rieg."

"So are you Tar?"

"Ugh," I say, sitting down and placing my palms behind me, putting my weight on them. Riegan has a different idea, though, and sits behind me. I lean against him instead. "Yeah, I guess, I'm Tar."

"Nah," says Riegan after a pause. "You're Miss Tara."

I smile and lean my head on his shoulder, looking at him. "Exactly."

The brilliant thing about Riegan that I can't say about anyone else is that we never run out of things to talk about, even if we talk to each other all the time, and if ever the conversation goes silent, it never goes _dry_. After one particular silence, though, I turn around to him and give him a kiss. I don't know why I did. He raises a brow. "We're out of punishment."

"I felt like I ought to finish," I say, which I think is kind of lying. He laughs. I sigh and lean back on him again. He says what I am thinking:

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever," he says, twirling a strand of my hair on his finger.

"Okay," I say contentedly.

"Then you'll allow it?"

"Why not?" I reply, amused. I yawn and pull my knees up to my chest. "Poo, Haymitch. I'll just stay here with you."

Riegan bursts out laughing. "As tempting as that does sound, I think it was important. Come on. I'll go with you." We put out the fire, put away the food, and then we set out back to the Victor's Village. Haymitch answers the doorbell just a few seconds after we ring.

"That was a long picnic," says Haymitch.

"How'd you know?" I ask.

"He saw me setting it up," Riegan explains. "Should I not be here, Haymitch, or would you like me to leave?"

Haymitch observes Riegan for a moment. "You should go. I want to talk to her alone."

Riegan doesn't take it personally. He gives me a squeeze around the shoulders. "I'll tell everyone where you are."

And so, I follow Haymitch inside. Haymitch points at the couch, and I sit down there. I sit rather uncomfortably. Haymitch goes over to the messy shelf and pulls a tape from it. He sits on the rocking chair in front of me. He places his forearms on his knees, leaning forward. "Sing to me the chorus of _Let's Not Play Pretend_."

Startled, I begin to say, "Wh -"

"Just do it," he snaps.

Taken aback, I start singing:

_I would like to fall in love again,  
__and just start as good friends,  
__No camera, no lens, let's not play pretend._

"Yes, exactly Now, that song," says Haymitch coolly, "was your teenage father's theme song, Tara. How do you think he's going to feel when you tell him that this romance was pretend?" Without waiting for a response, he goes on: "It's going to hit him right where it hurts, that's what."

"But it doesn't … doesn't even affect him," I say, befuddled. "He won't care. It's not like Riegan and I mind about -"

Haymitch shakes his head. "Inconsiderate!" I flush, and I hurry to defend myself, but he continues, "Tara, your story is more like your mother's than you think it is."

"No, it's not!" I say resentfully. "I'm nothing like -"

"Yes, you are!" he says back at me, voice rising. "That boy isn't just your _Gale_, he's your Peeta. He is everything that you are ever going to wish for, and you _don't know it_."

He's like some hard core therapist.

"I – I don't have any idea what you're talking about," I say. Seriously.

Haymitch sighs and leans back in the rocking chair. "I've been dealing with the problems of teenage girls for too long."

"I'm listening, this time."

"Let me guess. When you kiss him, you don't know if it's real. You feel something, but you don't know if it is. His little, romantic moments are so believable, that you forget that you're pretending," he drones monotonously, "he's so blunt, how he talks, you don't know if he's being serious or if he's just acting. He's so convincing. He seems so affectionate. Am I right, or am I right?"

"Uh..."

"I thought so." Haymitch hands me the tape.

I see, written in his untidy scrawl, _Third Quarter Quell. _I panic. "No – I can't – I can't watch this. I got nightmares for like, a week, I mean – I still get -"

"Watch it," he says, voice turning so gentle that I relax. He flips the tape over, and I see a list of time codes, some of them marked with a bright red asterisk. "Those ones -" He points. "Watch it."

"But..." In my mind, the frozen image of my mother's face appears. I shut my eyes.

"Trust me."

–

Sorry to have ended it there, haha. I had an _excellent _that's what she said joke ready for this chapter, but... I edited and decided to separate the chapter.

**Review!**


	30. The Quell

BAM, BAM, BAM. UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE.

By the way, you guys haven't guessed Hawthorne Baby's name yet xD I'll be honest about that, at least.

This is so filled with recycled words from Suzanne Collins that it's hardly reading anything new haha. It's like one of those fanfics when Harry, Ron and Hermione read the Harry Potter books or something. I spent most of last night looking up at the screen and then back down at Catching Fire :P

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

–

I close the den door. It's after midnight. I said good-night to everyone. Nobody is awake. At least, I hope not. I have my blanket and several pillows set up on the couch, and – should I ever need it, but I doubt it – I have a small bowl of popcorn set up on the coffee table. I don't think I'll be too entertained by tonight's feature film, though. I take a deep breath as I bend down to insert the tape into the player. "I can't believe I'm watching this," I mutter.

There is a knock on the door frame. "Hey there, Miss Tara."

Surprised, I fall backwards onto my butt. "Riegan!" I hiss. I turn my head to him, dressed in his old fleece pajama pants and a camouflage sweater.

He smiles. "What are you doing still up?"

"I have to watch this stupid -" My voice gets cut off, and I just show him the tape case.

"Why?" he asks, as I press play and stand up. "I thought this gave you nightmares."

"It does. But Haymitch asked me to, and now I'm going to fall asleep with images of my mother's killing face," I mutter grudgingly. I go over to the couch with remote in hand, pulling the sheets over my legs.

Riegan closes the door behind him and sits beside me. "I'll stay with you." I'm not going to complain. I toss the rest of the blanket over his legs, and I huddle close to him, eyes locked on the screen nervously. The blank screen fades into the familiar opening that was the same title card for so many of my nightmares. Riegan gently removes the remote from my grasp, holding the tape case. "Fast forward, I think."

I don't nod, don't say anything, but I let him take the remote. I shift slightly so I can lean on Riegan's chest, listening to his heartbeat. It's a comfort to me, and I need it for this. He presses a button and the image that is on the screen when he lets go is of four people in a jungle. The trees have few branches, and look like they have smooth trunks. Different trees from the ones I know. In the middle of the group are two people – one carrying another. The one walking is a handsome man, with familiar, gorgeous features – Finnick Odair. He is carrying an unrecognizable woman. She's old, obviously, since she's walking, and the wrinkles and the gray hair. She looks familiar - from "the book" - but I can't quite name her.

In front is Father – younger, and so more handsome, but still, I can recognize him. At the back, is Mother. It's remarkable how much she looks like me. "It's funny how much she looks like you. From this angle... the only thing that could say it's not you is the bow and arrow. And the expression," says Riegan. I smile a little.

They have obviously been walking for a while, because they are all breathing heavily. They are all in shape, though. My eyes are stuck on Mother. I see her mouth open slightly, as if to say something, but then Father is flung backward, knocking over Finnick and the old woman. Mother rushes over to where he lies, motionless. I am frozen, even though I _know _he's not dead.

"Peeta?" Mother says. She shakes him a little. "Peeta?" No response. Her fingers go across his lips, and something seems to panic her. Her ear goes down to his chest, and I realize uncomfortably that it's the same thing I'm doing now. She screams: "Peeta!" Mother shakes him harder, even slapping his face.

The camera turns back to Finnick. "No," I hiss. Keep it on them.

"He's fine, silly," says Riegan gently, rubbing my arm.

Finnick props Mags against a tree and pushes Mother out of the way. "Let me." His fingers touch points at Father's neck, run over the bones in his ribs and spine. Then he pinches Father's nostrils shut.

"No!" Mother yells, hurling herself at Finnick.

"What's he doing?" I whisper.

Riegan says patiently, "It's cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Finn told me about it. It's what they do when your heart fails."

I'm not familiar with this. Finnick knocks Mother out of the way, and she nocks an arrow, and is ready to let it fly – but both of us are momentarily stunned because it looks like Finnick is kissing Father. The video skips forward, so I'm guessing it's been a few minutes when Father gives a small cough and Finnick sits back. I release the breath I realize I've been holding, and Riegan laughs quietly. "Silly girl."

"Peeta?" Mother says softly. She brushes the hair from his forehead – a motion I'm familiar with doing to the boy sitting beside me. I shift awkwardly. Mother's fingers move down to his neck. I know she feels the pulse because she looks intensely relieved.

Father's eyes open. "Careful," he says weakly. "There's a force field up ahead." Mother laughs, but she is crying. "Must be stronger than the one on the Training Center roof. I'm all right, though. Just a little shaken."

"You were dead! Your heart stopped!" Mother bursts out. Her hands clap of her mouth, and she makes awful choking sounds that I cannot believe are coming from _Mother_. Even if she is younger, she's still Mother. I can never imagine her being so distraught. At least, distraught in that way.

"Well, it seems to be working now," he says. "It's all right, Katniss." Mother nods, but she's still crying. I'm perplexed and stunned. "Katniss?"

"It's okay, it's just her hormones. From the baby." Finnick is on his knees and is panting a bit.

"No. It's not -" Mother starts sobbing again.

I almost giggle. Then, I realize why Haymitch wanted me to see _this _part. "Can you believe she didn't think she loved Father at this time?" I say thoughtfully, more to myself. "It's so..."

"... obvious?" Riegan finishes quietly.

I nod, shifting and pulling my knees to my chest. "Yeah."

We find out that the old woman's name is Mags. At first, though, I think that Mother cries, "Matz!" instead of "Mags". I wonder if that had anything to do with choosing Matz's name. That, though, is when I realize I'm not watching this for the purpose I should be watching it for. "Riegan, fast forward."

They are walking. It's quiet. Father is walking ahead, and the camera is on his face. His eyes flicker upward suddenly, and it's like he's triggered a bomb. Monkeys explode into a shrieking mass of orange fur and converge on him. I let out a small cry of terror. "Sh – Miss Tara, remember, it's all done. It's not happening anymore. He's fine," says Riegan gently.

I've never seen any animal move so fast. They slide down the vines as if the things were greased. Leap impossible distances from tree to tree. Fangs bared, hackles raised, claws shooting out like switchblades. I may be unfamiliar with monkeys, but animals in nature don't act like this. "Mutts!" Mother spits out as she and Finnick crash into the greenery.

Mother brings down monkey after monkey with her arrows. I stuff my face in Riegan's shoulder, not watching. Just listening. I hear slashes with the knife – Father's, I'm presuming. "They're almost done, Tara," Riegan says gently. "Look up."

So I do. The scene is so gory and so... disgusting, that I can't believe this actually happened. "Peeta!" Mother shouts. "Your arrows!" I realize that she has no more arrows in her own sheath. He is sliding off his sheath when it happens: a monkey lunges out of a tree for his chest. Mother has no arrow, no way to shoot. I can hear the thud of Finnick's trident finding another mark, and so does Mother. Nobody can save Father. Mother tries to throw her knife, but it somersaults, evading the blade. It stays on its trajectory.

Weaponless and defenseless, Mother runs to Father, obviously trying to just shield him with her own body, but she doesn't make it in time. It seems, from thin air, a woman with saggy, yellow skin reels in front of Father. Her pupils are so enlarged, they look like black holes. I stare in horror as the frightening-looking woman throws up her skeletal arms, as if to embrace the monkey, and it sinks her fangs into her chest.

Riegan waits for the scene to change until he pauses it. "Why does he want you to see that?" he asks, incredulously.

I don't answer, but I know why. It was a small part, but she did do it – Mother was willing to sacrifice herself for Father. I bow my head down and just shrug. I sit in silence. We don't fast forward the tape. I just listen, not really processing.

… "Why don't you two get some rest?" Mother suggests. "I'll watch for a while."

"No, Katniss, I'd rather." Finnick's face, the exact duplicate of Finn's – their expression is exactly the same. I recognize the hidden anguish. Because of Mags, probably.

"All right, Finnick," says Mother. "Thanks." She settles beside Father and I muse on how much trust has built between her and Finnick. They must have been quite close, especially after this was done...

I shut my eyes, because I feel the sting coming from behind my lids. I sigh. "Oh, Riegan," I breathe sadly, "we're looking at Finn's _dad_. This man is dead." A tear rolls down my cheek. I think about how he would be like out of that environment, and that atmosphere. I wonder if he would join the cast of visitors: Gale, Annie, Johanna. I wonder if I would have liked him. I wonder if Finn would have.

Riegan wipes the tear, but he has nothing to say.

… "It's like your decomposing."

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?"

"It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?"

"Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it."

"Not if I keep looking at you."

I'm torn between being amused and insulted, since Finnick called Mother ugly and I look like Mother. Riegan laughs, but then says sorrowfully, "I would have liked him."

"Yeah, I think I would have, too," I reply.

Mother and Finnick continue helping each other rub the ointments on their skin. "I'm going to wake Peeta," she says.

"No, wait," says Finnick. "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his."

"Oh!" I say, almost smiling, "Finn would have done the same thing."

They position themselves on either side of Father, lean over until their faces are inches from his nose, and give him a shake. "Peeta. Peeta, wake up," Mother says in a soft, singsong voice. It's funny, because she uses that on me sometimes. (When you wake _me _up in the morning, you have to be soft and singsongy.)

His eyelids flutter open and then he jumps like they've stabbed him. "Aa!"

Riegan and I burst out laughing because the situation is so like what we do ourselves. "I call dibs on waking you up like that," I say deviously.

Mother and Finnick fall back the sand, laughing their heads off. Every time they try to stop, they look at Father's attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it sets them – and Riegan and I – off again. By the time we (all) pull ourselves together, Mother looks at ease. I'm sure that now she's thinking that Finnick Odair is a good friend to have. "I wish I could tell her," I say wistfully. "I wish I could warn her about him."

"There's no way to warn anyone about something like that," says Riegan. I fight back tears again, because Finnick seems a lot like my own friends, and I feel like I already know him. "The next time code doesn't have an asterisk; do you want to watch it?"

"Okay," I say slowly.

It's just a few minutes later.

"Who is that?" Father is saying. "Or what? Muttations?" Mother draws back an arrow, readying for an attack. There are three people on the beach. One is being dragged by a second. The third is wandering in loopy circles. But they're not attacking: all that happens is that the one who was being dragged collapses on the beach. The person dragging stamps the ground in frustration, and in an apparent fit of anger, turns and shoves the circling, deranged one over.

Finnick exclaims, "Johanna!" He runs.

"Finnick!" Johanna replies.

"Johanna," Riegan and I say together in shock. Johanna, with less weight and a more athletic body. Her hair is longer, but that's not saying much since her hair is a bob cut now. It's just short and just past her chin.

After a few uneventful moments, during which Riegan started playing with my hair (bored), Riegan says, "Fast forward?" I nod, and he fast forwards the tape to the second-last time code that Haymitch has indicated.

Mother and Father sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, her right shoulder and hip pressed against his. She watches the water. He watches the jungle. She rests her head on his shoulder. He caresses her hair. Riegan's hand freezes on my own head, and I give a little snort. So he continues.

"Katniss," Father says softly, "it's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do. I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well. So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us."

"Why are you saying this now?" Mother says, raising her head and meeting Father's eyes.

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life," he says. "I would never be happy again." Mother starts to object, but he puts a finger to her lips. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are people who'd make your life worth living."

Father pulls the chain with a gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so we can all clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch, and the disk pops open. It's not solid, but it's a locket. Photos. On the right, a blonde woman and a blonde girl, both with my color eyes. Grandmother and Aunt Prim. On the left, a younger Gale. Smiling.

"Your family needs you, Katniss," says Father.

I know Mother. If there was any moment that she would be tempted to give up, to fight for her _own_ life, it would have been then.

This moment is real. This isn't playing pretend.

"No one really needs me," Father says.

Mother pauses. For some stupid moments I believe that she is about to agree – but I remember that she didn't. It's why I'm here right now. "I do," she says, "I need you." Father looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument. Before he can talk, Mother stops his lips with a kiss.

Well, that's kind of weird to look at.

"This is awkward," says Riegan.

I laugh. Sometimes, I wonder if I say these things out loud, or not. How is it possible that someone is so in tune with someone else?

I say, "If I can forget that they're my parents, I think it's romantic."

Riegan and I watch long enough for Father to lead mother to the spot where everyone else is sleeping. He puts the chain with the locket around her neck, and then rests his hand on the spot where their nonexistent baby should be. If it were true, that baby would have been me. Before kissing her one last time, Father says, "You're going to make a great mother, you know."

I smile. "He's right."

"Who?" Riegan asks.

"Father," I reply, pulling the blanket up to my chin. "She's made a wonderful Mother." Riegan smiles and then moves the tape to the last time code.

Father has just pried open an oyster. He has laughed.

My mind travels upstairs, to the master bedroom, to an old, oak dresser across from a bed which holds my parents, on top of which sits a small box with a two-decade old pearl. I know what this moment is.

"Hey, look at this!" He holds up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. He looks to Finnick and says earnestly, "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls."

"No, it doesn't," says Finnick dismissively.

But Mother starts laughing, and I smile. Father rinses off the pearl in the water and hands it to Mother. "For you." Mother holds it out on her palm and examines the iridescent surface in the sunlight.

"Thanks," she says, closing her fist around it. She looks coolly into Father's eyes.

"The locket didn't work, did it?" he says. "Katniss?"

"It worked."

Father averts his glance. "But not in the way I wanted it to."

I hit the pause button, because I know that the moment is over. "Why did Haymitch want you to see that?" Riegan asks.

"She still has it," I explain. "The pearl."

Riegan smiles. "Well, that _is _romantic."

"Through it all..." I say thoughtfully. Riegan looks at me expectantly for a moment, and I realize that we are done – I will have to go to sleep.

Riegan sees my discomfort. "What's wrong?"

I whisper, "I'm scared I'll have nightmares again tonight." I pause, and look up at him. "Stay with me?"

Riegan nods, and he lies down on the couch, pulling me down beside him. As he pulls the blanket over our shoulders, he murmurs, "Always, Miss Tara."

–

I've just mapped out the next few chapters in my head, and... :O I might be almost done.

-shields self from rotten tomatoes-

SORRY.

**Review!**


	31. Closure

Throw your tomatoes, guys, I'm not making a sequel ;D

**The Hunger Games aren't mine.**

–

It is a beautiful day, and I, more than anyone, know not to believe that – but it is too tempting. Skipping, I set off down the Victor's Village. Most of the flowers have just begun to wither, since my birthday is the gateway into summer, so I want to pick some while they're still alive. Number Twelve – the last house – has a mix of hyacinth flowers and hibiscuses. I love the less known words for "hibiscus", though. Prettier ones, like _gumamela _and _rosemallow_.

As my fingers stroke the leaves softly, I recite the description of the hibiscuses from Grandfather's book: "The leaves of the hibiscus are alternate, simple, ovate to lanceolate, often with a toothed or lobed margin..." My hand goes over to the petals: "The hibiscus is known for its showy flowers: they are large, conspicuous, trumpet shaped, with five or more petals, from four to eighteen centimeters broad, and ranging from white to pink, red, orange, purple, or yellow..."

I snip at its stem. My mind goes down a paragraph in the hibiscus page... in Grandfather's neat cursive, I remember... "One of the main uses is it being the primary ingredient in many herbal teas. A particular species of hibiscus can also be used as a vegetable, or to make jams..." I hum softly to myself, trying to remember what else the uses were. "White or red hibiscus roots make concoctions believed to cure ailments, like cough. Hibiscus tea also lowers blood pressure..."

"It's freaky how you can remember all of that."

I don't turn around. I know it's Felix. "I like flowers, Felix."

"I know," he says, moving up beside me. When I don't reply, he asks, "Where's Riegan?"

This rubs me the wrong way, for some reason. "He's with the other Ch -" I stop, because it sounds weird coming out of my mouth.

"Children of Warriors?"

I smile a little. "Yeah."

"Okay, can we please not pretend that we don't know what's going on?" Felix asks me. As always, Felix sees an awkward topic and stabs it with a fork until it's not awkward anymore. I can tell this is going to be one of those painful stabbings.

"Tell me about Teenan."

Felix sighs. "We got talking in class one day. She saw I was new and I decided she was being nice. I didn't know her name until after we had a perfectly pleasant conversation. She's very interested in the same stuff I'm interested in, Tara. I ended up liking her. And then I realized _your _warnings about Teenan and I asked if she knew who Teenan was, and she said, 'yes, that's me'. So I didn't tell you, because I knew you'd disagree."

"But she's not just your _friend_, she's your _girlfriend_," I say. I start with the stabbing, now: "Is it to make me jealous?"

"Like I said," says Felix, crushing the flower that's in his hand, "I like her."

"I didn't ask if it was _just _to make me jealous."

Felix sighs. "Look. We should just forget this. I have Teenan, you have Rieg -"

"No." I snip one last stem and put it in my hand, turning around.

"No?" He follows me. "I thought -"

"You think like everyone thinks, Felix," I say, "and once upon a time, I thought you didn't, and that set you apart from everyone else..." I sigh. "But anyway, I _don't _have Riegan, and while I don't like Teenan, what I don't like more is the idea of someone using someone else. So fix it."

Felix grabs my arm. "I told you to fix your problem, and you never fixed it; why should I listen, now?"

"Because you were always the smarter one in our relationship."

He sighs. "Tara, I just need to know one last thing."

I yank my arm away from him. "I'd rather not talk right now."

"Tara, please, listen -"

"No, Felix!" I cry. "You know what? Riegan's right. We never did break up officially. Well, here it is. It's not working out. I don't like you anymore, leave me alone, I'd rather not talk. Maybe we can still be friends, I don't care. I'm just not your girlfriend anymore, Felix."

And then he's kissing me and I'm frozen, until I realize what we're doing and I wriggle out of his grasp with difficulty.

"Felix!" I say, aghast, "You have a girlfriend!"

Felix sighs. "I'm sorry -"

"I can't believe you _kissed me_! Right after I legitimately broke up with you!" I cry, spinning around and walking away. "And you have a _girlfriend_! Don't you want to keep some small ounce of self respect, Felix?"

"Tara -" He tries to grab my arm and I yank it out with such surprising ease that I turn around to see what made him let go.

Riegan is holding Felix's elbow. He says, quietly, "Leave her alone." Behind Riegan, the other Children of Warriors stand by.

"She doesn't need you, she doesn't need a protector -"

"I'm her best friend, I have every right to take care of her."

"She didn't ask for it," says Felix coolly.

"All right. New tactic. Either I had to kiss her or she kissed me," Riegan interrupts, "what's your excuse?"

Felix stares at him for a moment, and his arm swings around to punch him. "No!" I yell. Riegan dodges the punch and hits him right back. I can hear the smack. Felix bends back down, holding his jaw – the same place I ran my head into a year ago, that day he asked me out – glaring at Riegan. And then he makes to hit Riegan back. "Stop it!" I get in between them and Felix practically knocks me out of the way. I go to Finn. "Stop them, please?"

Finn smiles ruefully and steps forward, stepping firmly in between them. Felix and Riegan can't knock him aside. I sigh and take Riegan's hand, pulling him away. "You guys are being stupid."

"He kissed you without permission!" Riegan says, enraged.

"So did you, once," I say patiently.

Riegan splutters, "But – yeah, but – well..."

I sigh and squeeze his hand. "Come on. Please don't ruin your last day here." I turn to Felix, letting go of Riegan's hand. "Fine. If it means no one gets hurt, I'll answer your question."

"Do you still like me?" he asks quietly. "At all."

"If you asked me that before you tried to punch my best friend, I would have said yes, Felix," I say quietly. He bows his head, recognizing defeat. "I'm sorry." I go on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"I'm sorry, too." Felix gives me a rueful smile, and tucks a red hibiscus behind my ear. "Hyacinths mean rebirth, too; did you know?" He hands me the rest of his flowers. The hyacinths, the hibiscuses.

"Of course I know." I smile. "See you around, Felix."

–

"Riegan?"

He looks up expectantly. "Hey." He's packing, even though he barely slept in his room in Hazelle's house.

"We can't tell them," I whisper, watching as he goes between the dresser and his suitcase. "We can't tell them that it was fake."

"I know what you're getting at," Riegan says slowly, "but the last time you postponed telling the truth... it didn't end up well, did it?"

I sigh. "But it'll break his heart, Rieg."

He gives me a wistful look. "It'll break his heart even more if we let it go on for too long."

"Okay," I say tiredly, "but we'll tell them all at once. And we'll get the Punishment Police with us to explain. Okay?"

"Okay."

So, a few minutes later, an hour before the train leaves, the four of the eight Punishment Police are there (Elli, Finn, Matz, Rysnna) and our parents are all seated in the living room of Number Two of the Victor's Village. "What's going on?" asks Gale as he sits down beside Lira.

"We have to explain something," I say, squeezing Riegan's hand tightly, because I'm scared even though I don't think I should be.

"We were kind of playing a game, two days ago," says Elli, picking up for me, since she sees that I'm scared, "and Riegan and Tara broke the rules, so we punished them."

Lira raises a brow. "And...?"

Riegan squeezes my hand. "The punishment was that we had to pretend that we were dating for twenty four hours."

This settles in with the adults. I avoid Father's gaze, but I don't need to look up to notice that he has gotten up and left the room. I swallow. "Are you guys mad?" I ask, looking up at them.

They look dumbfounded. Mother says, "I _am _mad that you lied, yes."

"Sorry," I whisper.

"It was our fault, Katniss," says Finn somberly, "we made them."

"I _would _expect you to act a bit more mature, Finn," says Lira, sounding disappointed, "I guess I can imagine it – I mean, teens will be teens, but -"

"I'm still a teen," Finn says.

"We _are _sorry," says Rysnna.

Silence.

I get up and follow Father out of the room. He is standing out on the balcony of the master bedroom, leaning against the railing. "Daddy?" I whisper.

"Dandelion," he says, turning around to me, "why?"

"I didn't consider how it would affect you," I explain quietly, abashed.

"Me?" he says, shaking his head. He sighs. "It's all right, Tara. I guess... if you and Riegan are both fine with it, I shouldn't mind. You were just having fun, after all." I walk over and give him a hug. He hugs me back. "I guess I should be glad you're still going to be my little girl for a little while longer."

I smile. "I'll always be your little girl, Daddy."

He laughs. "You'll always be my dandelion, but not my little girl. One day, you'll grow up, and some lucky man will have you instead."

"And he'll have you to thank," I say teasingly.

"That's right."

–

"Would Tara rather gain several pounds or watch a cat die?"

Rysnna looks expectantly at Riegan. I laugh and tell Finn the answer to the question, and Riegan says, "Gain several pounds. Easy." Finn and I both nod.

We're all walking together to the train station. Matz and I are helping Rysnna, Finn, and Riegan bring their stuff to the station. Rysnna invented this game, to test how well we know one another. Riegan asks, "Finn, would Rysnna rather be a mentor in the Hunger Games, or be a Gamemaker in the Hunger Games?"

Rysnna frowns, and then whispers to me, "Second one."

Finn's faces scrunches up in thought. "Uh... Gamemaker?"

"Yeah," Rysnna says, grinning.

"Why?" asks Riegan.

"Because I'd have less of a connection to them. I wouldn't get attached. It'd be … less painful, I guess," says Rysnna.

"Oh!" I say, as we come in sight of the station, where our parents are already waiting.

Matz cries, "It's early!"

Both Matz and I were hoping the train would be late, I guess. I sigh, and put my arms around Rysnna and Finn. They give me hugs in return, and Riegan and Matz hurry to join the group hug. I lean my heads against theirs and say wistfully, "I'm going to miss you guys."

"It's just two months," says Riegan. "I mean, you _are _all coming to Two for my birthday."

"Of course we are!" cries Rysnna, hugging him tightly. She bends around to whisper in my ear, "I have a gift idea – I'll send you the email as soon as I get home."

I look at her curiously. "Okay."

We see Johanna motioning for Rysnna, and she gives us our last hugs. "I'll see you in Two, you guys. And _keep in touch_, or I will take some violence lessons from my mother." This cracks us all up.

Finn and Riegan do their not-secret-hand-slapping-fist-pumping thing. Finn performs a simpler one with Matz, and then Finn kisses me on the cheek. "Okay, goodbye for now, I guess."

"Stay handsome, Handsome," I say affectionately, hugging him.

Finn turns red, but rolls his eyes to hide it. "Yeah, yeah." He heads off down with Annie and Grandmother. Riegan, Matz, and I follow.

I go up to Lira, first. "I can't wait to be back with you guys in September," I say breathlessly, "I hope we can stick around long enough for..." My sentence trails off but my eyes drop down to her belly and it goes without saying that I want to meet the baby.

Lira smiles. "I hope you guys can, too." She bends down and hugs me, rather awkwardly because of the stomach, and says, "I really want the baby to grow up with a sister."

I look up at her, surprised. But then I smile. "It will."

I turn around to see Riegan bending down, talking to Matz. Then they hug, and Riegan turns to me. He smiles wistfully and I go straight into his arms. He smells like home. Literally. Smells like the scent of my house … particularly the cookies that he helped Father bake this morning. I look up at him. "It's just two months, right?"

"Two months," he says, nodding. He looks sad.

I smile and say, "They'll fly by. And I won't mess up your birthday this time. I promise."

Riegan laughs. "I trust you."

"C'mon, Riegan, time to go," says Gale, motioning for him to come as he and Lira board the train. Father and Mother help Gale to help Lira on.

Spontaneously, I give Riegan a kiss – and not on the cheek. He looks at me in surprise. "We're off punishment." We have been for a day, now.

"Time to go, Riegan," says Father. They hadn't noticed.

I whisper, "I know."

Riegan still looks confused, but he smiles a little. He gives me one last hug, squeezes my hand, and kisses my cheek. "See you soon, Miss Tara."

–

Real or not real? ^_^

Side note: I'm not a gardener, I'm a writer with Google. I also know that hibiscuses, though lovely and were my favorite flowers back home in the Philippines, will probably not grow in Appalachia xD Excuse that, please?

**Review!**


	32. Hunts and Fetuses

This is easier than answering all your reviews one by one:

Just to clarify, I'm _not _done haha. I have about... five more chapters left. Roughly. I haven't outlined the chapters between now and the ending (which I have written, by the way). I know there won't be more than 40 chapters, though. Probably. _Yes_, there will be an epilogue-type-of-chapter. What do you guys want to see in that? :) I have one written now, but I'm pretty sure it's not what you're all expecting – tell me in the reviews, please ^_^

And, fine. I'll be fair and narrow down the list of names for Hawthorne Baby considerably. YES, it's a girl. -grumpy umpus 'cause I told- Also, no, none of you have guessed it yet – writergal24 got pretty close, though. (Ask her about it, if you want. Go. xD) Oh, and ladaane, it's not Cinna-related. ^_^ Umm... well, if you did some research, you probably could find it. It's actually more related to IAS than the Hunger Games, which sounds stupid, since IAS is just a continuation of the Hunger Games, but... yeah. -zips mouth shut-

Yes, Rysnna is a slight rip-off from Luna Lovegood from the Harry Potter books. Only, Rysnna's head isn't so much in the clouds. She's a bit … wiser? I guess?

Finally, I am not writing a sequel because of these main reasons, among others:

1. all good things must come to an end, and Tara isn't immortal, and her story won't always be interesting, anyway :)  
2. writing a sequel would mean writing in NaNoWriMo time and I'm dedicating all 30 days of November to my project. So... no fanfiction updates that month. At all. ^_^  
3. I want to write about other things.  
4. I'd like it to end on the good note that it's going on, instead of spiraling downwards into something that bores you all :)  
5. I want to leave some part of I Am Strong to your imaginations.

**I don't own the Hunger Games!**

–

When Matz and Riegan stand back to back, Matz's head is now higher than Riegan's shoulders. "I can't believe I didn't notice," I say sorrowfully as Matz leans away from Riegan gleefully. That was the first thing Matz did when we got off the train – hauled Riegan aside, and then stood back-to-back. I feign utter sadness and throw my arms around him. "My little brother's growing up!"

"Aw, Tara, let go -" he says, wriggling out of my grasp.

Riegan smiles, hugs me, and then kisses me on the cheek. "Hey there, Miss Tara." As for me, I've never been taller than Riegan – obviously – but I'm taller than most of the other girls. The top of my head reaches Riegan's forehead, at least.

"_You're_ growing up too!" I gush. I mess up his hair and say, "My buddy's turning _seventeen_ this week!" I think being in District Two makes me talk a lot like Ysabel.

Riegan adjusts his bangs and says, "Yeah, well -"

"Did you just _fix your hair_?" I say incredulously. "Goodness _gracious_, Rieg." Yeah, District Two definitely influences me to talk like Ysabel.

He laughs. "Oh, I've missed you."

I smile and hug him. "I've missed you, too."

"Even though you've been on the phone together every night for at least half an hour," Matz teases. I laugh. "Leaving like, fiveminutes for me."

"You know I love you, little brother."

"Right. Yeah. Don't say that, please."

I pull him into a hug again and say, "I love you, Matzo!"

"Ew! Tara! Don't!"

I smirk, and then let go. "So, Matzo, you excited to see Ysabel again?"

Riegan laughs. "You know she's still single, right, Matzo?"

"Guys!" he says, burning crimson. I laugh. Matz is almost ten, and Ysabel's almost sixteen. Matz knows it'll never work out, but he still has a little boy crush on her. Honestly, I don't totally blame him. I would have a crush on Ysabel if I were a little boy, too. I look at him once more and he's shrunk a little, slouching. He still looks embarrassed.

I link my arm with Riegan's and say, "Come on. Let's go. I want to see all my District Two friends again."

When we get down to the Hawthornes' street, Ysabel, Fraser and Vins are there, perched on the railing of the porch steps of the Hawthornes' house. She sees me and cries, "Tara, Tara, Tara, Tara!"

I laugh and let go of Riegan so I can give her a hug. "Hey, Ys."

"Matzo!" she cries, giving my brother a hug. He looks flustered.

"Hi, Ysabel," he says. So, now I wonder if it's a genuine crush or if it truly is a little boy crush.

When Vins gives me a wave he asks, "So, you and Riegan aren't dating yet?"

And I surprise myself and take it in stride. "No. Why, you interested?"

Vins laughs. "Nah. Just wondering."

"Shame." I turn around to Riegan. "Better luck for you next time, then, Rieg."

Riegan joins in the laughter. "Uh... right."

"Ooh, Tara, do you want to help me with Riegan's party?" Ysabel enthuses. I grin. "Streamers and party blowers and oh, my – do you think we can get your dad to bake a cake? And … cookies and muffins and -"

"Ysabel!" Riegan interrupts.

She looks up at him expectantly. "Yes, Mr. Birthday Boy?"

"I was actually thinking of doing it District Twelve style," he says. Immediately, I know he's committed suicide, because Ysabel will not be happy with how District Twelve celebrates birthdays. "Just... a dinner, with – twenty people?"

Her jaw drops. "... twenty?"

Hastily, I try to save him. "Well, I mean, I'm sure that number's just a rough esti -"

"Twenty!" Ysabel says again, horrified. "Riegan Hawthorne!"

"I like the dinners better than a giant party," Riegan tells her earnestly. Ysabel looks near tears. He says, "You can still decorate... and have the pastries..."

"But..." She is still gaping at him disbelievingly. "Twenty!"

Riegan nods. "Tara, count for me." I nod. "Me, Mom, Dad, Tara, Matz, Peeta, Katniss, you, Fraser, Vins, Finn, Rysnna, Annie, Johanna, Grandmother Hawthorne..." He lists a few more people, including his cousins on his mom's side, and then some other District Two friends.

"Thirty-two," I inform him.

"See, Ysabel? That's still a hefty amount of guests. How many did Deebari have, Tara?" asks Riegan, referring to the boy who lives next door to Hazelle.

Matz replies: "Fifteen, I think."

"Fifteen!" bursts out Ysabel. "But – but..."

"My birthday," Riegan tells her firmly, "my guests."

Ysabel's eyes widen innocently and Riegan looks on the verge of letting her have her way, but I give him a smile. I squeeze his hand and he looks more firmly at Ysabel. Ysabel sighs, seeing defeat. "_Fine_. But you're not getting that new guitar-lesson-book-thing that you asked me for."

Riegan spreads his hands. "I don't mind."

She gives him a dirty look. "I'll tell you when I forgive you."

–

The Hunts – Lira's family, from District Seven – get the guest house, which I helped prepare. I've never met Riegan's cousins, but he's told me some about them. Lira has two siblings: a younger sister named Merleen, and an older brother named Rielie (yeah, that's where Riegan gets his name). Rielie and his wife, Liz, have two little kids: Mandy (seven), and Devan (five). Then there's the Grandparents Hunt.

**(A/N: Anyone found out my secret? The names Riegan, Lira, Rielie, Merleen, Teenan, Keley, Deebari – these ridiculous sounding names are from searching up "your Hunger Games name". Rysnna has mine, because I couldn't think of anything else ^_^ No, Hawthorne Baby doesn't have that sort of name.)**

I rush up to Riegan when the passengers of the train begin unloading. "Do you think they'll mind? Us being here?"

"Why would they?" he asks, looking at me in surprise.

"I don't know. We're not family," I say, shrugging.

Riegan wrinkles his nose. "You're as much family as they are."

"Do you think they'll like me?"

"What's not to like?"

I scowl. "You're too _biased_..."

Riegan smiles and puts an arm around me. "No, I just think you're pretty awesome."

"My point exactly."

When they unload the train, I recognize them immediately, because almost all of them have the same shade of hair as Riegan, with the exception of the Grandparents Hunt, who have silver, stringy hair. Merleen could be Lira's twin, with the exception of the smaller features on Merleen's side – and, of course, Lira's tummy. Liz is a plump woman with lighter shade of brown for hair, and blue eyes instead of brown. Mandy and Devan, I can tell, are attached at the hip, by the way they cling to each other. Devan is a chubby little boy.

I step away from Riegan as they all greet him, saying advanced happy birthday, saying, "My, you look like your father", or "how you've grown!". It sounds familiar because others always say it to me, only that I look like Mother, of course. Only Merleen notices me. "Is this Tara Mellark?" she cries. "The famous Tara Mellark?"

Riegan grins and pulls me to his side. "Aunt Merleen, this is my best friend. Tara, this is my Aunt Merleen."

And now they all pounce. "Tara!" say Mandy and Devan together.

Mandy looks up at me and says, "Your eyes are pretty."

"Oh, well – um, thanks," I say, embarrassed. I catch Riegan's amused grin and can't quite match it because I feel weird.

"Riegan's told us _so much _about you," says Liz feelingly, "why, it's funny being introduced to you, since I feel like I know you so much."

"Er, um -"

Grandfather Hunt says, "Looks every bit like Katniss Everdeen, she does."

"'cept the eyes," says Grandmother Hunt, "she has Peeta Mellark's eyes."

"Naw!" Grandfather Hunt argues, "her eyes are gray! The Mockingjay's eyes were gray."

"Naw, Tim, that's your color blindness kicking in. Her eyes are blue," Grandmother Hunt says patiently.

Gale, thank goodness, sees that I'm overwhelmed. "Guys, why don't we take you all to the guest house?" There's a ripple of agreement among the Hunts; Gale, Lira, and my parents lead them off in the direction of the house. Mandy and Devan stay behind, walking with us.

"Told you they'd like you," Riegan tells me smugly, picking up Devan, who was reaching up to be carried.

I make a face. "I could barely breathe..."

"They're enthusiastic, that's all. And they know I love you, so they love you, too," says Riegan, and I know he means it in that non-awkward way, but I still turn bright red when he says it. He continues, shifting Devan in his arms, "Furthermore, you have the good first impression look to you – so it's easy for all of them to believe you're the walking goddess that I've probably played you out to be."

"Riegan Hawthorne!" I say, staring at him.

"I don't _mean _to, Tara," he says sincerely, "but I think that's what they get from how I talk about you."

"You're lying."

Ysabel pipes up, "No, he's not. It's how he talked about you to me and Fraser and Vins."

I sigh exasperatedly. "Oh, that's great."

"You are a lovely person," says Ysabel, smiling at me, "and while none of us quite see you how Riegan does, we all do think you're pretty fantastic."

I just shake my head. "This is going to be a long vacation..."

–

Since Riegan is expected to entertain his guests, I spend the time that isn't with him with Rysnna and Ysabel instead. The two of them get along splendidly and I love them both, so it works out. Finn hangs out with Matz, Fraser, and Vins.

"Have you guys decided on the song?" Ysabel asks. We're at the park, swinging together.

"Tara doesn't like the idea of singing _That's How You Know_, even though it's adorable," says Rysnna.

I sigh. "It's his birthday. We can't sing that." Rysnna's birthday gift idea is to sing something for Riegan. I play piano (Lira has a keyboard) and sing along with whatever Rysnna is singing. The problem is, we haven't figured out what song. "It's too... romantic."

"But it's coming from you," says Ysabel, doing her smug little grin.

"And Rysnna," I remind her. "Also, just because it's coming from me – I don't – ugh. Never mind."

So we sit in silence for a moment, trying to brainstorm. But then I realize that Ysabel wasn't thinking about the song. "Rysnna?"

"Yeah?"

"D'you like Finn?"

Rysnna turns to her. "Uh... not like that." She looks honest, and I know it, too. Rysnna isn't interested in boys. Not really. She's not interested in romance, generally. She loves the songs about it, but the reality doesn't tempt her.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I know _you _don't, Tara," says Ysabel thoughtfully.

"Why?" asks Rysnna.

I add, "You interested?"

Ysabel giggles. "Well, not any more interested than the rest of the girls he comes across, I guess."

"Elli has a thing for him, too," I say thoughtfully. Rysnna laughs and nods. "Are you serious, Ys?"

"No, I guess not."

But now, the idea of Ysabel and Finn won't get out of my head. Rysnna, for some reason, I can't imagine with anyone, let alone Finn Odair. If Finn was just a face, I could imagine him with anybody, but he's _not _just a face. He's timid, occasionally smug, Finn Odair. He's _handsome _timid, occasionally smug, Finn Odair, but... he's still the quiet, calm, voice-of-reason. I think about Ysabel and how she's pretty much Finn's complete opposite. She's an enthusiast about everything and anyone, she flaunts her love of life... only, they're both the voices-of-reason. I mean, when Ysabel is put with Fraser, Vins, and Riegan, yeah, she's the voice of reason. Hm.

I bring this up with Riegan, later, when we're both washing dishes (which, by the way, is about the only time we ever get to talk one-on-one; I don't mind, though). "Do you think Ysabel and Finn might ever -"

"Tara Mellark, matchmaker?" He raises a brow at me. "Not a title I associate with you..."

"No, but Ysabel asked Rysnna if she liked him like that and Rysnna said no and why and I asked if she was interested, and Ysabel told us that she wasn't any more interested than the other girls he came across, anyway," I say in a quick breath, "but I couldn't get the idea out of my head and I can... kind of imagine it."

Riegan is wiping at a plate that's already clean, so I know he's thinking. Gently, I take it from him to dry. He says, "Ysabel is the loud, annoying younger sister who I am affectionate of but can be exasperated with sometimes. Finn is the wise, older brother that I go to for advice. I can't imagine the two of them together."

"To _you_, that's what they are. Ysabel is the optimism in me and Finn is my conscience," I say. "I can imagine them together. They're each other's _foil_."

"I don't know." He shrugs.

So I let the subject drop, but I'm still thinking about it once we're done with all the dishes. (We have a lot of dishes.) "If Ysabel is your loud, annoying younger sister, who am I?"

Riegan smiles, puts an arm around me as we walk away from the sink, and says, "Let me put it this way. We finish the other person's sentences, we think the same thoughts, and we tell each other secrets that we tell no one else. You're my _twin _sister. You're my confidante. You're my other half." He grins. "Of course, I'm the one who's ten minutes older."

"You're only older in terms of time, twin," I say, poking him. "In terms of mind, well... you're a fetus. I'm the wise old woman."

Riegan rolls his eyes. "I'm a _fetus_..."

–

That is what you call a filler. This was brief and hasty because I was STUPID and forgot to write more chapters over the weekend. Please don't panic if tomorrow's is late, because it probably will be. Sorry!

**Review, please!**


	33. For Good

**TKG: **I update any time before school or after school :) Lately, I've been updating at about 6:30-7:45ish my time (which is Pacific Standard Time), but obviously the writing is already done before then. I haven't tried going on this site at my school, but I imagine it's blocked :P I can't even get onto my profile at the library.

–

Devan Hunt is the cutest little boy in the world, and that's coming from a very affectionate sister. Matzo doesn't mind; he says that he's "almost ten; I don't need a big sister to go 'round calling me cute". My reply was teasing – I told him he probably wouldn't mind if it were Ysabel calling him cute. He stuck his tongue out at me. Anyway, Devan is a kind of kindred spirit. Liz tells me that there's really no other female outside the family he tolerates better.

I have rocked him to sleep the day before Riegan's birthday. I hummed and sang softly, swaying the rocking chair back and forth. _Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top_...

Riegan watches me from the cozy armchair next to us. When Devan's eyes close, he whispers, "Maybe you got the mothering instincts your mom never got."

"Mother has plenty mothering instincts," I say, somewhat defensively, "it's why having children frightens her."

He smiles. "Well, I guess, you welcome it, and that makes the difference." Riegan leans on the armrest, closer to me. "So. Any clues about my birthday present, Miss Tara?"

"Why would I tell you?" I ask, looking to Devan and stroking his hair gently. He's like Matz in the way that they're both small, blonde, and have large eyes, but Devan's hair is more flaxen than golden, which is what Matz's is. Also, Devan's less mischievous. He's quieter and more thoughtful – which none of the other Hunts are. "Things are better kept a surprise."

He shakes his head. "When you act like a mother, you become much older."

"I'm not your twin sister, then, am I?" I ask, grinning.

"No... you're the older sister. The one in her twenties," he replies, leaning back down, still smiling. "But you're still Miss Tara, of course."

"And who is that?" I ask, playfully.

Riegan grins. "Still my other half. Just, now, you're older and wiser and more uncomfortably mother-like."

The _idea _of motherhood enthralls me. Is that strange? The idea of having my own little boy or little girl like this gets me excited. Having a baby to sing to, to rock to sleep, to cuddle, to love. I suppose I'm too young to like the idea of someone calling me "Mother", but it's not like I'm saying I want it now. I just know I want it eventually. Like how Mother was rather set on the idea of not having children when she was my age. Just the opposite.

"You'd be a good one, you know."

I look up, distracted. "Huh?"

"A mother," he clarifies. "You tell great stories."

I laugh quietly, because Devan's asleep. "That's what makes a great mother? Stories?"

"No, but it sure helps." Riegan grins. "My mom was – is still great at telling stories. You can sing great, too."

"You sing better."

"No matter; you can still sing," he says dismissively. I smile. So he _does _know he's the better singer. Riegan adds, "And you're an excellent listener."

"Well, yes, I'm your best friend, of course I'm an excellent listener to you," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Tara?"

I look down. I didn't realize he had woken up. "Oh, sorry, Devan; did we wake you?"

"No. I had a dream and I wondered why the baby is in the tree. Don't the mommy know it's not safe?" he asks sleepily. "The bough might break... and down will come baby... cradle and – and..." He yawns. "All."

"Not all mommies are smart ones, I guess," I say. "Do you want to be carried to your bed? Riegan can bring you." Devan nods and lets himself be put into Riegan's arms. I walk beside him as he brings Riegan to another room in the carriage house. When Riegan puts him in bed, I pull the blanket over him and then give him a kiss on the forehead since Liz is in the main house with the adults and can't do it instead of me – anyway, I volunteered to put him to bed. That's part of it. "G'night, Devan."

"Night-night, Tara. And Riegan."

"'night, buddy," Riegan murmurs.

–

"Lira?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you have any green, cream-type things I can put on my face?"

"... why?"

"It's Riegan's birthday."

"Er... well... yes. Mud mask?"

"Perfect."

And so, after applying enough icky green stuff to my face (with Lira's help), I sneak into Riegan's room and am relieved to find him still asleep. Complete with the drool-stained chin and everything. I pull my face close to the side of his and murmur sweetly in his ear, "Rieeeegan... wakey, wakey!"

Riegan's eyes open and I smile wickedly as he yells at the sight of me – just barely holding back a swear – and tumbles off his bed. I burst out laughing and go around to the other side, where he's sprawled on the floor. His blankets are tangled around his limbs and his hair is more disheveled than ever. I cover my mouth because the laughing is so obnoxious. "That – was – brilliant!" I choke out happily.

"Ugh, I hate you..."

I laugh and sit down beside him, hugging him. "Of _course _you do." I give him a kiss on the cheek, pressing my face to his so the mud smears all over. "Happy birthday, my dear Mr. Hawthorne."

Riegan wipes the creamy substance off his face and smears it all over my arm. But I don't really care. "Well, I -" Then he pauses. "No, I can't talk to you with that all over your face. It's a welcome mat for any possible nightmares." I laugh and get up to comply. I skip away to the bathroom to wipe it all off, but then I go back. It's early in the morning – there are few reasons I will wake up at this hour, and this is one of them – so Riegan has gone back to sleep when I return.

I leap up onto his bed and start jumping. "Get up, you lazy good-for-nothing birthday boy!"

"Tara!" he exclaims, and he scrambles over, seizing my ankles. I shriek, falling. "Come on. It's my birthday. Be nice."

I grin and hug him. "I am being nice. Come on, get changed! We have a big, big, big day ahead of us!" I haul him off the bed. "The sooner we can get this day started, the longer it's going to be. Today is going to be perfect. I promise."

"Don't jinx it!" he says.

I smile and change my tone to something gentler. I give him one last hug. "Don't worry; I'm not hiding any boyfriends from you this year, Rieg." And then I leave the room to let him change.

–

"Thirty two," says Ysabel grumpily as she and I put up streamers around the Hawthornes' backyard. I smile as I am busily setting table cloths, and plates and utensils. Riegan looks up at me from the other end of the yard and gives me an amused look. We're all helping – Finn and Fraser and Vins are helping Ysabel. Rysnna, Riegan, Matz, and the Hawthorne cousins are helping with setting up the tables.

"This is actually quite a big number, Ysabel," says Rory Jr., "compared to what District Twelve usually has."

"It's a birthday _party_," she says sorrowfully, stepping off the ladder and shooting Riegan a hateful look.

"My birthday, my guests," he says; it's not the first time he's said it.

Ysabel shoots him a scowl. "Yes, yes, whatever."

"When it's your birthday, you can invite all of Panem, for all I care," continues Riegan.

"Riegan, shut up."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ysabel flounces over to me. "You're a traitor, you know," she tells me matter-of-factly.

"And why is that?" I ask, smiling. "My loyalties were with Riegan before you came along."

"Yes, but – but – I'm the _girl_," says Ysabel, as if it were ultimatum. Riegan and I both laugh at this. "Fine! You traitor."

I look over to him and say, "I just find this so funny how she cares more about the guests to _your _birthday, as if it were her own."

"Like I said," he tells me, smirking. _Loud, annoying little sister. _I roll my eyes.

Ysabel sees that I amnot responding in the way that pleases her, so she saunters over to the other nearest person – Finn. "You hang out with them more than I do, Finn," she says. "Are they always like this?"

"Always like what?" Finn asks, looking up from his very exact art of utensil placement.

"Always so... we're-so-close-we-don't-even-have-to-use-proper-words-to-speak-to-one-another," Ysabel says, only the sound of exasperation doesn't quite work in that phrase.

Finn laughs. "It was a gradual development, I think. What do you think, Rysnna?"

She nods. "Gradual development. I haven't noticed 'til recently."

"Hold on, let me try. Tara, what am I thinking of?" Riegan asks, contorting his face. His jaw opens and shifts, his nose wrinkles, his eyebrows wiggle weirdly.

I giggle and take a wild guess. "I hope my cake is strawberry-flavored."

"Wow, you're good."

I burst out laughing. "Really?"

"Seriously." He nods. "I saw your dad go through the kitchen window behind you, splattered with icing. Which is why I was hoping it was strawberry-flavored."

"I don't think that's natural," says Vins, looking between Riegan and me, "like... you're not even related."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I ask, a bit haughtily. "He's every bit my brother as Matz is." Matz snorts, and everyone doesn't need to say it but I know what they're all thinking: _yeah, right, Tara_.

I roll my eyes. Rysnna hastily finishes up her set of utensils and rushes to me. "Come on, Tara – we need to – you know -"

"Aha! So it's with Rysnna, my gift!" Riegan exclaims exultantly.

Rysnna gives me a disdainful look. "Can you like, drop the telepathy for _five _seconds?"

"That was just his powerful deduction powers," I say innocently.

She groans. "Well, hurry up, before he figures it out..." But I imagine he already has, since what Rysnna and I have in common is music.

–

Later, when I take my place beside Riegan at the table, he leans over and whispers in my ear, "Do you want me to pretend to be surprised?"

I smack him. "No, I want you to _be _surprised."

Riegan smirks. "Too bad. I already know what it is. I just need to know what _exactly_."

"Well, good," I say brightly.

And so, we go through District Twelve tradition in District Two. Only, we add in a bit of the "party", I guess. Riegan was quite happy to do the hitting of the piñata, even if it is for a bit of the younger kids, so we hit the piñata. It wasn't all of us interested in candy, so we all get our fair share. I know my pockets are bulging, anyway. Riegan orders me to blow out the candles with him, only this time I couldn't really think of anything to guess for, so I asked for a pony. "What did you wish for?" he whispers to me.

"Well, if I tell you, it won't -" Then I realize I don't really care if I get a pony or not. "A pony."

He snickers. "Oh."

"What did you wish for?" I ask, smiling as he begins slicing the cake for everyone.

"Well, if I tell you, it won't happen," he says, smiling.

"So your wish was for something not to happen, not to get something..." I say, smiling.

Riegan rolls his eyes, but I don't get more out of him. While everyone's eating cake, Rysnna pulls me aside. "Okay, Riegan," she says excitedly, "Tara and I's gift for you is -"

"- music of a sort," says Riegan with his mouth full.

She scowls. "Yes, Riegan. And the song is – well, you'll hear."

I sit down behind the keyboard. Riegan sends me a smile and I begin to play. Rysnna starts singing, first. "I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason – bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them, and we help them in return..."

_Well I don't know if I believe that's true,  
but I know I'm who I am today, because I knew you_...

_Like a comet pulled from orbit, as it passes the sun,  
Like a stream that meets a boulder, halfway through the wood -  
__who can say, if I've been changed for the better?  
__Because I knew you, I have been changed for good..._

When we were practicing, Rysnna told me, "I'm just singing along, really. This song is from you. I mean, it's all true for me, but it's truer for you."

And I remember that I didn't argue, because I knew it was true. Coming back to the present, I tell Riegan, "This first part isn't true, by the way. I just can't rewrite it." They all just laugh a little and I sing:

_It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime,  
__so let me say before we part:  
__so much of me is made of what I learned from you.  
__You'll be with me, like a hand print on my heart._

_And now, whatever way our stories end,  
__I know you have written mine, by being my friend..._

_Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea,  
__Like a seed dropped by a sky bird, in a distant wood -  
__who can say, if I've been changed for the better?  
__Because I knew you, I have been changed for good._

And then we skip the next part because it doesn't work with the scenario and I can just play on the piano for that while. I look up at Riegan and he is beaming. I try and shut out Rysnna, because I usually get sidetracked by this part.

_Like a comet pulled – Like a ship blown  
From orbit as it – Off it's mooring  
Passes a sun, like – By a wind off the  
A stream that meets – Like a seed  
A boulder, half-way – Dropped by a  
Through the wood – Bird in the wood _

_Who can say, if I've been changed for the better?  
__I do believe I have been changed for the better...  
__And because I knew you …  
_… _because I knew you …  
__because I knew you,  
__I have been changed …  
_… _for good._

When I look up at Riegan I don't see just gratefulness, and happiness. I see something that I call hope – but I'm not sure why. Rysnna goes over and hugs him. I see her murmur a happy birthday. I put the keyboard down on the ground and go up to him, too. He hugs me tightly and whispers, "You are the bestest friend I have ever had, Miss Tara Mellark."

"Did I mess it up for you this year, at all?"

Riegan kisses my cheek – in front of his parents, my parents, his grandparents, oh, _everybody_. "No."

"I -" But then I forget what I was going to say mid-sentence. I whisper, "I'm glad you liked it."

Then he says, "But I don't know. You might still have jinxed it this morning. There's still a couple hours of my birthday, yet."

"I won't ruin it," I say firmly. "I'm sure of it."

And I swear I can hear him say, though his lips don't move, _Don't give me a promise you can't fulfill, Miss Tara_.

–

Woohoo! I just bought you one more chapter because I ended this one ;)

Ladies and any possible gentlemen, there are _four _chapters left in I Am Strong. (Maybe five, if y'all started telling me what you want in the epilogue...)

**EVERYBODY: TOMORROW'S IS DEFINITELY GOING TO BE LATE. DEFINITELY GOING TO BE LATE. DEFINITELY GOING TO BE LATE. DEFINITELY GOING TO BE LATE.**

**MY ENGLISH TEACHER TOLD ME TO AVOID REDUNDANCY, BUT MY FRENCH TEACHER ALSO SAID THAT ONCE YOU REPEAT THINGS PEOPLE REMEMBER THEM BETTER. SO THERE YOU GO.**

**REVIEW, PLEASE ;D**


	34. Tango is Romance

I want you all to Por Una Cabeza because it's been stuck in my head and I want it stuck in yours xD

**The Hunger Games are not mine!**

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What is it like to go to sleep and fear it? What is it like to dread the rest that so many of us find peace in? What is the feeling of waking up from a nightmare and still finding no relief? I don't want to imagine it. To see Matz be engulfed in flames, and to watch him leave me forever. To watch that once, in reality, and then again – intensified – in my nightmares. I can't imagine what it's like to expect something that won't come back anymore. The death of my flowers – the coming of fall – is just a break. They come back, reborn, every spring. Everything I've had to let go of has either been let go of in a comfortable way, or has come back in another form.

I can't imagine not knowing that I love Mother, or Father, or Matzo, or Riegan, or anybody that I care for. I can't imagine having to ask people – do I love you? Do I care for you? These people, did they die?What is real, and what isn't? What are my feelings? Why do I love you?

My parents are haunted.

By extent, so am I, and so is my brother.

I guess this is why I'm surprised when I hear Riegan thrashing in the room next to the guest room. Everybody knows that if there's a sound sleeper in the world, it's _me_ – which is reason to be surprised that I am the only one who hears Riegan's mumbling and whimpers, through the walls. I don't remember if I was having a nightmare. Maybe that's why I woke up. Maybe it was just coincidence. I slowly and quietly shift out of the bed, to not wake Matz, in the bed next to mine.

It's funny. I never usually have to comfort Riegan – usually, he's nightmare-free. It's me who's prone to the nightmares. But just after I open the door, Riegan's door closes slightly, still leaving the door ajar. Probably someone else went in because they heard it, too. "Riegan, sweetheart..." Oh. Lira.

"Mom!" he gasps awake.

I lean against the wall outside his room. "Shh. It's okay. Talk to me about it."

Riegan doesn't reply. I press my cheek against the cool wall and listen. He whispers, "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"What if I love Tara?"

It takes a lot of energy for me not to collapse and make a noise. I hear Lira laugh lightly. "Well, then, Tara's a very lucky girl."

Riegan sounds urgent: "But what if she doesn't love me?"

"It's her loss," she says patiently.

He groans. "But our friendship, Mom, what about that?"

"Where did these questions come from, Riegan?"

"Nightmare," he mutters, so quietly that I barely hear. "I kissed her again and she didn't like it." He sounds like his voice is dry. "I told her... I loved her. And then she told me that she wasn't mine, she isn't mine, and she won't ever be."

"Is that really what you're fearing, sweetheart?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess I've always …"

"Always...?"

"Cared for her. Obviously. But every time I feel convinced that it's not _friendship _she throws something out like 'I love him like a brother' – or Felix," he says, sounding frustrated, "and I don't know where I'm at. Whenever I hug her or kiss her or something she always looks like she's … pleased, but …"

"Let's forget what Tara thinks, Riegan. What do _you _think? Do you love her?"

"Yes, of course I love her," Riegan replies slowly, "but I don't know in what way."

"Talk to me about her, Riegan," says Lira, "tell me about your relationship with her."

Riegan is confused: "Like, how?"

"Okay, start from when you met."

He pauses. I imagine his thoughtful expression, eyes looking around the room as if there were answers in the furniture. "At first, it was just... nothing. I don't think I would've liked her if Dad and Katniss weren't friends before, you know? I don't think I would have given her a chance. She was too uptight to me. Too … old for her age. I couldn't imagine getting to know that. But then you guys made me, and I decided I'd try... and Mom, when she laughed! That first day we were friends, when she laughed... I remember feeling so _triumphant_. You know, for that month I first knew her, I don't remember the details. I don't remember the jokes we said, or anything. I just remember the feelings. And whenever I made her happy... I remember the feelings..." His sentence trails off.

"Like the painting?" Lira asks softly.

"That was the best one," he says, cheerfully. I smile. It was.

"Okay, talk about when you weren't with one another. After, when we came home."

I close my eyes and see his face again. Frowning. Both from thought and from unpleasant memories. "It was weird... everything good in my life went back to her. When Ysabel or Fraser or Vins said something funny, I would think, 'Tara would love to hear about this!' Whenever I saw a flower: 'I wonder if Tara knows what this is? Does she like this one?' Whenever I wore something yellow, too."

Lira murmurs quietly, "And Felix?"

Riegan's face in my mind is pink, now. "I've already told Tara how I felt. I didn't like that I didn't know. I didn't like that this stranger was coming in and stepping between the two of us. I didn't like how she valued this unknown over me."

"You didn't like how she chose him over you?"

"No, I didn't," says Riegan simply. He says, a little hesitantly, "And I do have reason to, right? We've been best friends for what feels like the longest time, and Felix was just... a newcomer. And then Tara just goes and starts dating him. I always used to wonder, that month after – what she saw in him? What did he -" His sentence gets chopped off and I see him look startled in my mind.

"- have that you didn't?" Lira finishes wryly.

"Yeah," he mutters.

Lira and Riegan are both silent. I imagine it. Riegan is leaning against the headboard, probably. His blankets are pulled up around him, and he's staring at his ceiling. His ceiling has glow-in-the-dark stars. Lira's eyes are aimed at her son, thoughtful. She's looking, but not seeing. She's seeing something else, in her mind. "Riegan?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, son, but you love her." Not that Lira sounds sorry at all.

Riegan makes a sighing sound and I wonder if that's a bad thing. If that's a good thing. If I care. I step back slowly, because I don't really want to hear his response. And yet, my ears are just dying to know what he says next... "Do you think she can tell?"

Lira laughs. "Hon, _you're _her best friend. You tell me."

My heart makes violent thuds in my chest. He practically _said it_.

"Well, I'll stay that way... her best friend, I mean – if she likes... I guess."

"You guess?"

"I would rather be her best friend than her nothing, Mom." He whispers, "But she has to know, one day. She'll figure it out. _I'll _figure it out."

My head is spinning.

Riegan loves me, Riegan loves me, Riegan loves me.

_Riegan Hawthorne _loves _me_.

And I did know it – but not in that way; I've never known it to be like that before. I scurry back to the guest room so I don't do something stupidly dramatic like faint.

Riegan loves me.

–

"Good morning, Miss Mellark." I don't open my eyes. Riegan? Oh, yeah. That guy who loves me. "It's actually good afternoon. One o'clock already, you know?" I feel him take my hands and pull. I groan and yank them away from him, stuffing my face under the pillow. He laughs.

"Leave me alone," I mumble.

"Whoa," he says, gently prying the pillow from out of my grasp. "What happened?" How can he _tell _that I'm in a bad mood? Am I in a bad mood? I don't even know.

"Nothing," I mutter, seizing the pillow from him. "Go away."

I can practically feel his panic. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" I snap. "Go away!"

"Tara?" he whispers, obviously upset. It doesn't take _me _to know that. I sigh and remove the pillow from my face. His brow is furrowed. Confused, upset. Mostly confused.

"Nothing," I say for the third time, sitting up. "I'm sorry. You know how I am in the morning."

Riegan nods, but he and I both know that snapping at him isn't the norm, no matter how early he wakes me up – and to snap at him when he's waking me up after _lunch _is just unspeakable. He still looks confused, so I give him a hug. "Brunch, Miss Tara?" he asks. There we go. He sounds more comforted.

Later, though, when he eats a second meal with me (he just has a banana), he notices that I'm still distracted. "Tara, _what's wrong_?"

"Nothing," I insist. That's four for my "nothing" count.

Riegan laughs. "You can't lie to me, silly girl."

I smile, because it's true. "Well, then, if you know me so well, what's wrong?" I challenge, swirling the oatmeal around in my bowl.

"Ah." Riegan sighs. I wonder if he can guess. I mean, I was with him right up until we went to sleep. So between then and now – there's only one thing that's happened. Can't he guess? Why are the two of us so _stupid _when it comes to this awkward little topic? Or is he being purposely naïve? Am _I _being purposely naïve? Why does it surprise me that he loves me? Well, no, it doesn't. I'm just not sure how to react to it. Riegan pokes me. "What do you say we just have a day for us, today? I've been busy entertaining my family and you've been with Rysnna and Ysabel and Finn more than me."

"I'd _love _a day for just us," I say, relieved. "Not that I don't love them, but..." Riegan nods, smiling. Understanding. As always.

And so, Riegan and I head out to the park together. Since it's September and a bit wetter this time of year, the park is fairly empty. Riegan and I sit out on one of the towers of the playground. As I climb up the ladder, he comments, "About Ys and Finn -"

"- no, it was kind of ridiculous," I say immediately, settling down beside him. "They don't have anything in common, even."

Riegan smiles wryly. "And so? What did you and Felix have in common?"

I roll my eyes. "Love of dance."

"Felix likes to dance?" he asks.

"Yes, but he's better at it than I am," I say uncomfortably, "he taught me how to."

"Like what?"

Why do you care? I want to say. I reply instead, "Mostly ballroom dancing. Like the tango."

"He taught you to tango?"

"Riegan," I say, hoping the laugh that comes out of me isn't too forced, "why are you so interested?"

"You can tango, now?"

"And foxtrot, quite well, too," I add, smiling a little. I turn to him, and he looks interested. Not jealous – interested.

Riegan laughs. "Teach me?" he asks, grinning.

Aha. "I'm not good," I say. "I just know how to."

"Then we'll be evenly matched," he says, sliding down the slide and waiting for me at the bottom.

"We don't have music..."

Riegan crosses his arms. "Mhm. Right. Empty your pocket, Miss Tara – particularly the right of your jacket pocket."

How does he know?

I smile ruefully and follow him down. He stands a step away from me, looking expectantly for instructions. I pull out the music player and give him one of the ear buds. There's a very little-listened-to play list on the device – filled with the songs Felix taught me to dance to. I stare at it for a second before remembering Riegan is there. I fill the gap with a small step, so our torsos are almost touching. I take his left hand gently, and then pull his arm around so his palm rests on my back. Then, I press play and begin murmuring instructions to him.

Riegan has always been the faster learner between the two of us. He knows how to take instructions and to apply them. It's why he's always been the decent opponent, in anything I liked to do – sword-fighting, and even singing. But when he's enjoying something, he's a lot better at learning. Which should explain as to why, at the end of about half an hour of dancing, he's leading the dance without me saying anything out loud.

But it is strange to be dancing with Riegan, because all the while, I hear Felix's teasing whispers, _the tango's the most passionate dance there is, Tara. The tango _is _romance_. And then a laugh. _Ha! I've made you blush!_

The difference now is that I am breaking out of the drama, and the romance, of the dance: whenever we step on our toes we both burst out laughing. I don't let go, but I do hug him, once he's stepped on my toes again. "That was fun," I say. "You're better than I am."

"Nope," Riegan says firmly. "You're a better dancer. Whether or not you see it."

"Well, I don't," I say, smiling. "And I don't see how, either."

"I stepped on your toes five times. You stepped on mine twice," Riegan points out. "Better command over your feet. You're just _graceful _in general."

I shrug in a "whatever" kind of way, not in a modest kind of way. I lean my head against Riegan, and wonder why I'm so against this. Why am I so afraid of being closer to him? Nobody else is going to make me smile or laugh like this. Nobody else is going to make me this happy. It would take a lot, anyway. So, why not?

"Tara! Riegan!"

As if on cue, my mother shows up on the sidewalk of the park. "You've been here all the while? We've been looking for you since lunch time."

I realize, as we walk to Mother, that she's the reason why.

It still hasn't gone away.

_We are not the killing machines our parents were_.

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Don't you all love Tara so much? xD

**Review!**


	35. I'm Not Strong

If **Even Without the Games **gets 23 reviews, I'll start writing the next chapter. :) You people who have read it, you can't just flood the reviews :P You should suggest it or something haha.

**I don't own the Hunger Games!**

–

"Today," I announce as I walk into Riegan's room, "is the worst day, ever."

He laughs and pulls on the sweater that was half on him. "Er, why?"

"Well, first of all," I say, moving over to the window and gesturing out to the view. "It's sunny." It is. It's the type of day when the sun is really like one of those cartoons, with the sunglasses and the pearly white teeth. There are no clouds in the sky, which is a perfect azure blue – have you ever heard a worse cliché? But I know not to believe it, so don't worry.

"Okay, what else?"

My eyes wander, to the guitar leaning on his bedside table. He had been playing last night; I can tell. Otherwise, he'd have put it back in his case. I heard him practicing, heard him humming. I knew the tune, but the lyrics he wouldn't sing – maybe because he knew I could eavesdrop. I do know, however, that it is _the _song – the song that he's been working on. I wonder if I will still be the first to hear it.

I abandon all nonchalant airs and feel my face twist into sadness. "I'm leaving you again." He smiles and walks over to give me a hug. His sweater still smells like the laundry. I mumble into him, "You know Lira doesn't like how you wear clothes that have just been washed, naughty child..."

Riegan bursts out laughing. "Well, firstly, I like this sweater, and she won't notice. Secondly, what is the difference with this day and all the other days we've had to say goodbye?"

I hesitate and look up at him. Don't you know the difference, Riegan? Why don't you _know_? You always know everything – why choose now to stop? I shake my head mutely and insert my face back in its spot on his shoulder. "Riegan," I say.

"Yeah?"

_I think I love you, too_.

No, not good enough. I "think". I sigh and step away. "Come on," I say irritably, "breakfast time..."

But Riegan pulls me back into his arms as we walk. "You're upset," he says. "Why are you upset?"

"Because I'm not going to see you 'til June!" I cry. And I'm confused, Riegan. Why can't you see that?

Riegan kisses my cheek. "Hey. Relax. It'll be the same as always, okay?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Okay..."

And because of that, everybody insists that today is another "Riegan and Tara day – and just a Riegan and Tara day". Riegan and I actually do protest, saying that it isn't fair to just cast aside Rysnna and Ysabel and Finn and all of them, but they were adamant. So, on the last day of Riegan's birthday visit, the two of us go ice-skating. Riegan leads me to a lake that has frozen over. Ysabel lends me her skates. I've never skated before.

"Why do you know how to skate?" I demand, sitting on the grass beside the lake as he strokes around with great ease, showing off.

Riegan grins and sprays me with ice shavings as he comes to a stop in front of me. "Most District Two kids know how to skate."

I scoot over to place the blades on the ice. I feel the smooth gliding beneath my feet as I do. "Help me up?" I ask timidly. Riegan smiles and takes my hand, holding me steadily. He pulls me up, and I gasp and slide. I scramble to find my footing and his grip firms.

"Whoa," he says. "Okay, are you good?"

I hold him tightly. "Yeah."

Riegan skates backward slowly, and he pulls me along. I stare at the ice, frozen. He laughs and tucks his finger beneath my chin. "Look up. And stop being so stiff." He says gently, "You're the better dancer, aren't you? Relax. It's ballet on ice." He holds my hands, still very tight. I try and loosen up. I look up and try and feel my feet beneath me.

After about fifteen minutes, I'm waddling on the ice – clumsily, but I'm doing it. "Look, Riegan, look!" I exclaim jubilantly as I let go of his shoulder and push with my toe pick onward.

Riegan laughs. "Congratulations."

"Oh!" I exclaim, and I go too far back. But before I can fall, Riegan catches me.

"Well, you were doing pretty good until that part." He grins.

I let him hold my hand as we skate. "You know," I say wryly, "I tell everyone – _we _tell everyone that I know you best, you know me best, and then you come up with a hidden talent like this and I wonder how much I don't know about you."

"Not much," Riegan tells me thoughtfully. "The things you don't know about me are just the things that just never really come up in conversation."

And then I lose my balance again, and we both topple over. Riegan is laughing, though. He pulls me back up and helps me to the sidelines. "Sorry," I say, embarrassed that I can't even stand up without him. He just smiles and holds me close until I can sit down on the grass next to the lake.

"Are we done here, then?" he asks, because I'm moving my foot around. I'm beginning to feel tired.

I nod. "Sure."

We take our skates off and begin to walk back into town. "Snowball fights, or mud fights?" Riegan asks as we go over the bridge that goes over the brook outside town. The water isn't rushing beneath us like it is in the warmer months. He stops me and then perches himself up on the bridge. I sit up next to him.

"Neither," I reply.

"Obviously. But if you had to choose?"

"Snowball fights," I decide. "Less messy."

Riegan grins cheekily. "Who's the better kisser?"

"Riegan!" I groan.

"Well, I'm just asking." Riegan smirks. "Felix or me?"

"I am _not _answering that question. Ask another one," I say determinedly.

Riegan rolls his eyes. "No; you can ask me one."

"Have I met the girlfriend?" I ask, speaking before I can think. "During Snow Day?"

"Yes," he replies slowly, "but only briefly."

"Why won't you tell me her name?"

"Because she wasn't important."

"So? I still want to know. You know _my _ex-boyfriend's name."

"Yes, but that was different."

I poke him. "Who was she?"

**(A/N: I'm stealing your name, writergal24.)**

Riegan sighs dramatically. "Kenmet. Ysabel's friend."

I match the name to a face. "Kenmet," I repeat slowly. I remember her – vaguely. I can't help comparing her to me. She's blonde, which, in my mind, oddly makes her prettier. She has interesting hazel-almost-yellow eyes, and a dimpled smile. She's smaller than me. I give Riegan a sidelong glance. "You liked Kenmet?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Why'd you like Felix?"

I resist a scowl. "Right." I pause, and he has no reply so I prompt: "You have a question?"

"When have you ever lied to me?" Riegan asks.

I look away. "We already know that."

"Was that the only time?"

"Yes..." I pause. "Yes."

"Ask me, Tara," he says, looking down. "Ask me that."

I'm confused, for a moment, because I feel frightened. Panicked. Then, I realize – for some reason, I know the answer to the question before I've asked it – and I don't like it. I move away from him, hurriedly. I need to get away... run away from this. I don't want this. I can't want this. "I don't want to."

I _know _when Riegan has lied to me and it was only once. And I can't believe I didn't recognize he was lying, then.

He moves away from the bridge as well. I stand rooted to the ground because his expression has suddenly turned fierce. "Ask me." He approaches me and I can't move. I want to move. I don't want to ask the question because I don't want to know the answer. "Please."

I whisper, "Have you ever lied to me?" … because part of me does want to know the answer. Part of me does like the – no! _No_, I don't like the answer! I don't like the answer because _I'm not Katniss Everdeen!_

"Yes." Riegan looks determined. Why am I not running away?

I close my eyes. "When have you ever lied to me, Riegan?"

He says quietly, "When I told you that 'I love you, Miss Tara. I'm not _in _love with you.'" He takes my hands and I find that I'm stone. I can see the images in my mind – ripping my wrists out of his grasp, screaming at him to leave me alone, and to run away. But I can't, because he's Riegan. I stare up at him wordlessly, asking him with my eyes: tell the truth this time. "I am very much in love with you, Miss Tara Mellark, and I _know _you feel the same way."

I can't even shake my head.

He seems to know that I am thinking of denying it, and he whispers, "Remember, Tara? 'You were, are, and _always _will be that special person in my life, no matter what.' Your words, exactly. Those words are my life line, Tara."

I shut my eyes. I can't talk. I can't move. What's _wrong with me_?

"Tara, please, say something," he whispers desperately. He squeezes my hands. "What is going to be different about our relationship, Tara? We'll be here for each other just like we are now. You'll run for my letters and scream at slow computers for my emails, just like I do. You're going to sing and dance with me. We're going to laugh together, have those inside jokes we've had over the years. You'll be in my mind as you always are."

"No," I breathe. It's all I can say.

"No," he says, almost agreeing, but with the wrong thing. "I want to show people I love you, Tara. 'In that way', because I do. It's the most selfish thing I've ever said, but I can't imagine anyone else with you without me wanting to... hurt something. Tara, I don't want our kisses to be for the audience, or to be just friendly little pecks on the cheek. I don't want those people who believe we're in love to be wrong. They're _not_, and you know it."

I shake my head. I can't, Riegan. I can't. Let go of me. Let me run away from you. I don't, I don't, I don't.

I'm saying it all in my head but nothing's coming out because my heart won't let me. Because I know it will hurt him.

He lets go of one hand and puts a hand on my cheek tenderly. Warily, he whispers, more to himself, "Miss Tara – _my _Tara..." And he kisses me, but this time it's not for an audience. It's not for teasing. It's for me, and just for me.

I gasp and pull away. "No!" I cry, and find an invisible dagger and stick it into him, right in his heart – and I know it: "I'm not _your _Tara. I've never been, I am not, I – I..." My voice cracks, and with an ounce of effort, I say: "I never will be _your _Tara, Riegan. Not _ever_!" I'm not, not, not, not, not.

I'm not Katniss Everdeen.

I'm not my mother.

I'm not Riegan's.

I'm not his, and I never will be.

I'm not, I'm not, I'm not.

Riegan's eyes flash of hurt and disappointment. My heart crumbles into a thousand little pieces, like his, but I can't, and I won't, try to fix either of those hearts. I grit my teeth, and then – I run.

I'm not strong.

–

-seizes dust bin lid for protection- THROW YOUR TOMATOES. I CAN TAKE 'EM. Roaaar! Hee.

(Throw them at Tara instead?)

ETA: I see a lot of people didn't get why Tara rejected Riegan? She has identity issues. She doesn't like being like Katniss. Riegan is "her Gale" and it hasn't gotten through her head that he's "her Peeta", too. She thinks she's just going to fall in love with him and have to choose between Riegan and someone else.

**Review!**


	36. Hey There, Miss Tara

Hey, guys :D No less than 1,000 hits all week! Woohoo! Glad to know you guys have been rereading, haha. Thanks.

Maybe I shouldn't have said that thing about Even Without the Games? LOL well, hopefully I'll have something this weekend.

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

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You know, the first time I tacked Riegan's last name onto my first name was actually the first day we met. Before I knew him. I did that, for fun – if I saw even a vaguely good-looking boy, I just liked to see if his last name fit with mine. It didn't mean anything. It was a playful little girl's daydreams. After that, I'd never thought _Tara Hawthorne _until a few days ago. When Riegan and I put Devan to bed together. When he told me I'd make a great mother.

And honestly, I think _Tara Hawthorne _flows nicely.

I chucked all ideas of that away just a few minutes ago. I sneaked past the parents and the friends, going into the guest room. I pulled myself under the blankets and my head under the pillow – I wasn't visible. I started sobbing. Mother has just come in. I wish she hadn't.

"Tara, sweetheart, Riegan's sulking downstairs and Gale and Lira and Father and I want to know what's going on." Mother doesn't sound at all gentle. She sounds firm.

I grip the pillow tighter over my head. Just let me _suffocate_. I press my face on the mattress, hoping it wipes away the tears. "Well, what do you _think_?" I say coldly. "If he's sulking and I'm up here, what do you think -"

"Why?" Mother asks. "I thought you loved him."

Yeah, I do. That doesn't make a difference.

"No, I don't -" I begin to say.

"- yes, you do!" That one isn't Mother. I'm so surprised by the voice that I remove the pillow from around my head. I wipe my tear-stained face with my arm, abashed. Matzo stands at the doorway, red and fuming and arms crossed. "I can't believe you told him no!"

"I can't believe you ca -"

"Why are you surprised I care?" he yells. "You're being stupid! He loves you and nobody else is going to love you like he does! Nobody else is going to be a better friend to you, Tara! Why are you so mean?"

I stare at him in disbelief. "I'm not -"

"Yes, you are!" he bellows. "You broke his heart! _Twice_!" Ouch. That's true, and it hurts. "You think _that _hurts? Imagine what he's feeling, Tara!"

Geez.

"Matz," says Mother gently, "I want to talk to her. Go back to Riegan."

I sigh and sit up as Matz leaves the room. Mother sits next to my bed – the same way Lira did a few nights ago, with Riegan. "Well?" I ask grumpily.

"I want you to talk to me," Mother tells me. "I know that I'm not usually the person you'd talk to when it comes to these things. I know Father's better at it than me, but I want to listen, Tara. And I'm listening. Why won't you accept Riegan?"

I exhale. The breath is a large one. "You."

"Me?" she says, confused.

I nod and grip the blanket tightly.

"Yes, _you_. Ever since those first few words I spoke to him, everybody – all of you – said that I would fall in love with him! That I'd fall in love with him, he'd fall in love with me, I wouldn't know it. Someone else would tear me away and I would fall in love with _him_, and – Mother, I _hate _being you!" I scream, everything I've suppressed over the past few years bursting out of me. "I hate looking like you and everyone thinking that my boy troubles will be the same as yours! I'm not a hunter or a singer or anything you are! But _nobody can understand that _and I _hate _it!"

"Tara -" begins Mother, still dumbfounded.

"Nobody ever considered that I would fall in love with Riegan, even if he wasn't Gale's son!" I screech. "Just that I _would _fall in love with him! Everybody just decided for me, that I would! Two years of that, Mother! No, even before that – people said, 'oh, how you look like your mother'. 'She looks so much like Katniss when she was that age!'"

"Tara!" Mother says loudly.

I shrink back down. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," says Mother, but I can see her patience was tested. She sighs. "Tara Mellark... you can't deny that we're very alike, _but _I know that you're your own person. You shouldn't just... let him go, because you're determined not to be me. No matter what you choose, you're not me. You're Tara Mellark, with the flaws and perfections every person has, but you're still unique." She gives me a gentle hug. "And yes, you're my daughter; I'm proud to call you that. But it doesn't mean anything... more, dandelion."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I've been stupid."

I've always known. I've just refused to know. Riegan is mine; I am his. Anything else is unthinkable.

"I just wish you talked to me about this earlier," says Mother ruefully, "it would have explained so much... saved you so much trouble."

I sigh. "I'm sorry," I say again.

Mother smiles slightly and shakes her head. "It's okay. Now, go down and talk to Riegan – unless you're... still afraid?"

"I'm afraid," I say, and it's true, "but that's not all I am. I'm _your _daughter. I am strong, too."

–

I asked Lira where he was. She didn't know. She went to grab him a snack – like a mother – and then he was gone. But I know where he is.

If we were in District Twelve, he would've been in the Meadow – but we're not in District Twelve. We're in District Two, and he's at the park.

He strums slowly, sounds of the strings meshing together to form soft, melancholy-sounding music. I don't know the song. His back is to me, and I've always been the quiet one. I slowly and tentatively sit down beside him. I think his eyes flicker to me, but his head doesn't move. I use two fingers to warily turn his face to mine. Still cautious, I lean forward and kiss him. Just briefly. "Sorry," I whisper, "I was confused."

I don't get a response. He just turns away.

"Riegan?" I breathe, terrified. He remains silent. I take a deep breath and sit down beside him. I don't touch him. Just sit beside him, cross-legged, talking to his ear. "You know I heard you talking to Lira the other night?"

_Yeah. I figured. Still the compulsive eavesdropper_.

I want to smile, but he hasn't _really _said it. I continue, "I figure I should tell you what I think of you."

_Do share._

"You were _insufferable_," I say, sounding like Ysabel. I continue on, trying to sound confident: "and I never thought I would like you, either. But then you showed me that you could be thoughtful, and funny, and smug and I loved it. Not that I knew it then, obviously - but you were pretty awesome. I knew that, at least. When you left... I remember I didn't miss you as much as I should have. I remembered you, though. Every morning, and every night. First thing and last thing on my mind, always, was you... and I didn't want to visit because I was afraid of being like Mother. Like now. But anyway, you have no idea how happy I was when I saw you again. Well, no - you did. I think you were just as happy. Isn't it funny, how when Felix came along, that was the day I felt so _possessive _of you? Do you remember how much I wanted you to stay?"

I see his mouth twitch. It takes all of me not to burst out cheering and applauding. _Yeah, I remember_.

"I wonder if you know how proud I was. Whenever I was called your best friend by someone else. Now, _that _is possessive. 'That's right; he's _my _best friend. Back off.' Maybe that's what I felt. I mean, possessive, but not, like... well, I was happy whenever you made friends. Is it vain to think that it just reminded me how much I knew you best? How much I _know _you best? I love that I can read your mind, you know," I say, taking this time to put my chin on his shoulder. He's ignoring me, anyway. "And that you can read mine. Was it ever a comfort to you, that I was the only one who shared your thoughts? Did it ever?"

_Yeah - imagine anybody else knowing what goes on in this mind_.

I lean back. "I am sorry, Riegan," I murmur. "Please... if you won't... I still - I just need _you_. It doesn't matter what way. I can't... can't live as happily without you."

And he still doesn't respond. Dismayed, I lean away, ready to stand up, but -

The playing resumes, and for a moment I believe he's ignoring me even more, but I realize it's a song. _The _song that he took so long to write. His mouth opens, and lyrics come out.

_Hey there, Miss Tara  
__What's it like in District Twe-elve?  
__I'm a thousand miles away,  
__but girl, tonight you look so pretty.  
__Yes, you do.  
__No star can shine as bright as you,  
__I swear, it's true._

_Hey there, Miss Tara,  
__Don't you worry about the distance,  
__I'm right there if you get lonely,  
__give this song another listen,  
__close your eyes.  
__Listen to my voice, it's my disguise,  
__I'm by your side._

___Oh, it's what you do to me...  
__Ooh, it's what you do to me.  
__Ooh, it's what you do to me,  
__oh, it's what you do to me,  
__what you do to me._

_Hey there, Miss Tara  
__I've got so much left to say  
__If every simple song I wrote to you  
__would take your breath away,  
__I'd write it all.  
__Even more in love with me, you'd fall.  
__We'd have it all._

___Oh, it's what you do to me...  
__Ooh, it's what you do to me.  
__Ooh, it's what you do to me,  
__oh, it's what you do to me,_  


_A thousand miles seems pretty far  
__but they've got planes and trains and cars  
__I'd walk to you if I had no other way.  
__Our friends would all make fun of us  
__and we'll just laugh along, because we know  
__that none of them have felt this way._

_Miss Tara, I can promise you  
__that by the time we get through,  
__the world will never, ever be the same...  
__and you're to blame._

_Hey there, Miss Tara  
__you be good, and don't you miss me.  
__Few more years and we'll be done with school  
__And then we'll make some history like we do._

_You know it's all because of you...  
__we can do whatever we want to.  
__Hey there, Miss Tara, here's to you.  
__This one's for you._

___Oh, it's what you do to me...  
__Ooh, it's what you do to me.  
__Ooh, it's what you do to me,  
__oh, it's what you do to me,_  


_what you do to me..._

_Ooh, ooh, o-ooh..._

I gaze at him, feeling pleasure and appreciation and... and... something else. He continues playing, glancing at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. He isn't mad at me! He still likes me. He wrote a song for me!

Riegan looks at me expectantly and worriedly, as if asking: Well? What did you think? I sit down there and stare at him in awe, and then I realize he wants me to talk to him. "That," I force out of me, "is a major turn on, Mr. Hawthorne."

He bursts out laughing and puts a hand on my cheek and murmurs, "I lo -"

I hurriedly cover his mouth with my hand. He looks confused. "I love you," I tell him. Pleasure replaces the perplexed look on his face. I say, "I wanted to say it first. Officially. "

"Not fair!" he gasps. I reply with a smug look. He looks at me for a moment, stunned. And then he just shakes his head. "You know, what? Never mind. I love you. More."

I'm about to protest, but he cuts it off with another kiss, and really – who am I to complain?

–

"Can your timing be any worse?" Ysabel scolds me, not even saying cheering like the rest of the world. "You're leaving and now he's going to be unbearable over the next few months." We all sit together up in Riegan's room.

"You can always stay here," Fraser suggests, like it's possible.

I laugh. "Right."

"Yeah, stay here," agrees Riegan, squeezing my hand.

I sigh wistfully. "And I didn't even get to see the baby."

"Speaking of the baby," puts in Vins, "any bets on the gender?"

"I still say it's a girl," Ysabel says.

I nod. "Me, too."

It appears all the girls, and Finn, agree that it's going to be a girl. Everyone else – Matz, Fraser, Vins, Riegan – think it's going to be a boy, or _want _it to be a boy, anyway.

"Has your mom decided on the name?" asks Rysnna, lying on her stomach on the ground, beside Finn. I don't listen to Riegan's reply, because I've gotten distracted. From my position next to Riegan, I wonder if she and Finn would work, instead. I asked her about the whole boy thing a few days ago, and she shrugged it off, saying that she wouldn't put the burden of having to deal with her Mother on anyone. She was probably joking, though.

They would look good together.

Well, Rysnna and Finn look good with anybody.

I lean up to Riegan and whisper, "How about them?"

"I was waiting for you to say that," he replies, out loud. "I agree, actually. I've agreed for a while."

I raise a brow. _So, are you willing to match-make them with me? _He nods.

"Insufferable!" Ysabel screeches. She whips around to Rysnna, Finn, and Matz. "Don't you _ever _get sick of that?"

"You get used to it," says Rysnna.

"It's not _normal _to be able to read minds," says Ysabel. "Try testing him, Tara."

_I love you_. I look up at him expectantly.

He laughs and bends down to kiss me in front of everyone. And my cheeks are still burning. He whispers, "Glad to hear it."

"No, that was too obvious," says Finn, "even I guessed that."

I wrinkle my nose and start thinking the lyrics of _Hey There, Miss Tara_. "Okay, go."

Riegan grins and hums the tune. "That, or... shut up, Finn."

"Yes. That second one was just your thought, not mine," I say.

"You shut up," Finn shoots at him.

"You shut up."

"Shut your trap."

"No, you shut _your _trap. I asked you first."

Finn sticks his tongue out at him and then throws a pillow at Riegan.

"No!" I cry, but it's too late. Everyone has seized a weapon and we are in a full-out pillow fight.

And then, just before everyone gets a few hits in, the door bursts open. "Riegan – Riegan," Gale says, tense, "help your mother."

"What?" Riegan asks, baffled.

"I need to start the car," Gale says. He looks to Riegan and orders loudly, "_Go help your mother_!"

"Oh!" Ysabel cries, as Riegan rushes out the door. Father comes in the doorway just as Gale leaves it.

"Do any of you guys need a ride home?" Father asks, looking at Ysabel, Fraser, and Vins – except it's only really the boys who need a ride. Ysabel lives right down the street. They hastily say that they'll be fine. They scurry out the door.

I am frozen, staring blankly into Rysnna and Finn's faces.

"Father, what's going on?" asks Matz.

How can he not know?

The baby's coming!

* * *

Woohoo!

**Review!**


	37. It's A Girl

Ladies and gentlemen, I present the shortest chapter I've ever written for I Am Strong :P

**I don't own the Hunger Games.

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"You guys can come in."

I look up at Riegan eagerly. He smiles at me, and looks up at the rest of my family, opening the door for us. I walk in hesitantly. Lira lies on the bed, cradling a bundle wrapped in pink. _It's a girl!_ I think jubilantly. Gale has his arm around Lira, and looks up at us. The happiness just radiates off him. I smile. Lira spots my reluctant look and says, "Come see, Tara." I move forward slowly, and my breath gets caught in my throat. The last baby I saw was Matz, and I was five. I'm sure I didn't really understand the importance of the birth then – nor did I appreciate it quite as much.

I've never known how small they could be. A small, pink hand is held near her cheek – I wonder how many of those chubby palms can fit on my own. The baby looks like any other with the wide forehead and the rosy, fat, dimpled cheeks. A little stub of a nose. Peacefully closed eyes. She has some fuzz on the head – light, brownish colored, but it'll probably darken.

"I'm so looking forward to getting to know her..." I breathe.

"It's nice to know she'll grow up with a sister, too," Gale says, eyes not leaving his daughter. I feel excitement well up in me, threatening to explode: already, this baby _feels _like my own sister.

I turn around. Matz looks curious, so I take a step closer to Riegan so he can see. All he can say is, "Cute." But he looks fascinated, even if he's not quite as excited as I am. He still looks up at Lira and Gale and says, "I'm really happy for you guys."

Gale smiles. "Thanks, Matzo."

I stare at the baby in wonder. I can't take my eyes off her.

"Her name's Camellia," Lira whispers, interrupting my thoughts.

My eyes dart up to meet hers, and I realize the significance. An image comes to my mind immediately, from the book of plants and from one of the flowering shrubs in the Victor's Village. My eyes close. An image of my grandfather's neat handwriting comes to mind. "Camellias," I recite under my breath, "are evergreen shrubs or small trees with leaves, alternately arranged: simple, thick, serrated, usually glossy. The flowers... are large, one to twelve centimeters in diameter, with five to nine petals in colors varying from pink, red or white. Tea is made from its leaves."

I'm glad they didn't call her "Rose", or "Lily". They're beautiful names, but I know Mother has a certain dislike for roses, and anyway, they're... _common_. Most people have never heard of camellias – they don't even grow very much in Panem. Flowers speak unspoken words. Their language is as beautiful as their appearance. We all know them: clovers mean luck, mistletoe mean "kiss me". To our family, dandelions mean hope, but it also means faithfulness and happiness. I'm about to ponder on the meaning of a camellia – I have forgotten – but it seems Riegan's thoughts match mine, as usual.

Riegan squeezes my hand. "It means everlasting love; you are perfect in every way; I admire you."

"Beautiful," I say quietly, smiling. I look down at the baby. I mean the flower, the meaning, and of course, her.

"Very fitting," Mother says.

"It was Riegan's idea," Lira says, tiredly, but her eyes are shining still; "to name her after a flower." I turn to him and smile. I'm sure it was.

The baby yawns, and snuggles into her mother. I feel a rush of _want _go through me. One day, I know, I am going to hold my own baby like that. Motherhood tempts me like it never tempted my own mother. It frightened her, and I'm not sure if that fear still goes away. But it's not the same with me.

Camellia blinks, and her eyes open like little slits. I see the color. The same bright brown as Lira's. And Riegan's.

Her eyes meet mine, and they are unblinking.

I want to freeze this moment, and memorize it. I want to be able to return to it, as I watch this little girl grow up. Say her first word: maybe a "mama", and then a "papa". When she first says "Riegan", or "Tara" - maybe it will sound like "Wee-gan" and "Ta-wa". When she takes her first steps. Plays with dolls. Walks into a classroom of strangers. Learns to ride a bike. Has her embarrassing moments. Falls in love. Get her heart broken. Shops with friends. Sings made-up songs... dances to music that isn't there.

I want to return to this exact second; this minute. So, I can remember what it was like to stare into those eyes and begin anticipating the adventures that they promise.

–

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	38. The End

"Oh, they're beautiful, Riegan," I murmur affectionately, kissing him on the cheek as I accept the bouquet. Orchids. I smile and bury my face in them. They smell hypnotizing.

"Rare beauty; love; refinement; beautiful lady," he says, pulling me close to him and smiling. As if I'm unfamiliar with the orchid's symbolism – but, then again, it's nice to hear it, anyway. He bends down and says in my ear, "_My _beautiful lady, specifically."

"Can you please _not_?"

I laugh, but don't draw away from Riegan yet. "I'm glad to see you, too, Camellia."

"You better be," she says haughtily, but she's smiling. I give Riegan's sister a long look before hugging her.

She's grown a few inches, something I'm sure she's not happy about. The height bothers her. She describes _my _height as a limit, and at eight, the top of her head already reaches my chin. If I told someone she was my sister, they might have believed me. Camellia has the same color hair as I do, and it even falls down in the same large waves. We're also both fairly slender. Even at her age, she's skinny and tall. The eyes are a dead giveaway, though. If I told someone she was my _daughter_, they probably would have believed me. She and Riegan have the same color eyes. Well, if I told someone she was my daughter and they didn't know I was just twenty-three, and Riegan just twenty-five, they'd believe me.

Not that we're talking about that yet.

That's awkward.

"You'd think," Rysnna says lightly, "that you three hadn't seen each other in a year!"

I laugh. It's just been a month. _Just_. I play with my flowers. It's an uncomfortable arrangement. For ten years, Riegan and I have been going back and forth between District Twelve and District Two to see one another. He usually teases me, saying, "Remember when you said you didn't do long distance? I really must be special if you've put up with this for ten years!" I know he doesn't like it, either, though. If – when – we get married, we won't know where to go. Twelve, or Two? Riegan insists on Twelve, but it would break his heart to be away from all his friends there... Gale, Lira, and of course, Camellia.

Camellia goes up on her tiptoes to hug Matz, who has come up beside her. Much to Mother's disappointment, I suppose, she _has _ended up "the littlest one in the family". Neither Matz or I have inherited her smallness. I've received her _skinniness_, but I'm almost as tall as a lot of the boys. Matz is still taller, though. He, by the way, has ended up more handsome than Riegan – at least in the opinion of those objective. My opinion, according to people like Rysnna and Ysabel, can't count. At eighteen he still has an innocent little boy look in his eyes... just add a bone structure that pathetic little girls swoon at, and you get my little brother. Oh. I might as well add a rigorous work-out, defined by Riegan, that results in toned muscles that has created a mammoth ego in both of them.

"Hey, Camie!" Matz greets. "How goes you?"

"I goes well," she replies cheerfully. "Well, up until Riegan and Tara showed me their serious grossness..."

Matz snickers. "It helps to look away."

"Don't lie, Matzo, we know you've teased Tara with your girlfriends all the time," says Finn. He's the living incarnate of his father's appearance, I swear. It must pain Annie to look at him sometimes.

Finn is as quiet and modest as ever. The only time when he comes out of his shell is when he's with the Children of Warriors. Well! I haven't called it that in a while. We aren't children anymore – well, I guess Camellia _could _count, but it doesn't feel like it. The "old" Children of Warriors, anyway, are "old". Finn is twenty-six, and Matz is eighteen. We aren't children anymore. Heck, Finn could _have _his own children. "If he would just hurry up the process and propose already," Riegan has complained more than once. I can't say I disagree, but still... Finn isn't the only one who should hurry up.

Not that I'm complaining!

I'm not impatient at all. I don't mind. I swear.

"What do you say we go out to the Meadow?" asks Rysnna, whose beauty has deteriorated with time just a little. She tells me she's not impatient. She's happy just to be with Finn and marriage just means she has a ring on her finger. But she's lying. I may not know her as well as I know Riegan, but I _do _know her well. She's waiting just as much as I am.

Or not.

"Rysnna, when did you intend to inform us about this?" Riegan asks loudly, seizing her hand and holding it up for all of us to see.

"I told you to take it off," Finn says tiredly, but he looks amused.

Rysnna smacks her forehead with her other hand. "I was going to while we got off the train, but I forgot. I saw Tara, and -"

"Oh, who cares?" I cry. "Congratulations!"

Rysnna's eyes dart to my hand, as if expecting to see a ring on it, as well. Not yet, I think ruefully. We exchange more congratulations as we walk to the Meadow. Camellia, only interested until she congratulated Rysnna herself, darts away as soon as we reach the field. She bends down and picks the daisies with a swift movement. "Don't go too far!" I call out automatically.

But she just nods vaguely and continues farther away from me. "What do you think will happen when you get your own kids?" Rysnna asks, as Matz goes out to follow her.

That makes me blush, for some reason. "What?"

"I mean, you're like her second mother. Mix between mom and sister. She'll get jealous when you have your own," she points out.

Riegan replies for me. "When we -" not _Tara_, I notice, "- have kids, Camellia'll be old enough to understand, I'm sure."

I've noticed that Riegan overestimates his sister's maturity. That's only one of the few issues with the age gap between them that I've noticed. Even with seventeen years between them, they still squabble like Matz and I did, with five years between us. The only difference is that Riegan thinks Camellia is ten when she is eight. He'll think she's twenty when she's fifteen. I've brought it up with him more than a few times but he's just shrugged it off.

Riegan takes my hand and we go ahead of Rysnna and Finn, toward our siblings. "Will we really have kids, Tara?"

I smile. "Well, you know I want them, and I know you want them. Do you?"

"Yes," he says, but I spot hesitance.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"What if I'm not..."

I stare at him, knowing what his issues are even though his sentence trailed off. "You're not _serious_."

He laughs. "I'm just worried. You and I both know you're going to be a brilliant mother – but what about me?"

"Well," I say, grinning and kissing his cheek, "I'll tutor you."

* * *

"Oh!" I say suddenly, standing up at the sight of the clock. It's almost eleven. "Riegan! We have to go outside!"

"What? Why?" he asks, startled.

"Oh, come on," I say, pulling at his hand and dragging him out the door.

Riegan is letting himself be hauled, but he still asks: "Tara, what's going on?"

"Hurry _up_, we need a clear view of the sky!" I cry. At last, we arrive at the Meadow and I look up at the sky anxiously. "I hope we didn't miss it -"

My eyes scan the horizon, and my heart falls a little bit. It was supposed to come...

"No! It's right -" Riegan points, and I look up. Yes!

There, amidst the splatters of white on the black blanket that is the sky, a line of silver shoots across the heavens. I close my eyes and wish for … what else? Riegan. As is tradition, I look to him and ask, "What did you wish for?"

He smiles a little, as if he's someone with a secret, and says, "If I tell you, it won't happen. What did _you _wish for?"

I wrinkle my nose and hug him around the middle. "If I tell you, it won't happen."

"So it's a _happen_," he says teasingly, putting his arm around me.

I nod and kiss him. "It's a happen." Sort of. I begin to pull him back inside. "Come on, let's go -"

"No, wait." Riegan takes my hand and pulls it back. I look up at him expectantly. "Do you remember that time, just before you told me you loved me... officially?"

I smile. "Of course, I remember that."

"Do you remember when I was talking to my mom and then I talked about … you?"

"Of course."

"I've never told you," he says slowly, "directly... how much I appreciate you."

I shrug. "It goes without saying."

He smiles and brushes the hair from my face. "I still want to tell you. Let you know."

I match his smile. "Well, fine; I'm listening."

And then he begins to talk, like when I spoke to him those moments before I was introduced to _Hey There, Miss Tara_. He's not talking to me as his girlfriend. He's talking to me as his best friend – and funnily enough, I like it that way. Not that I don't like being his girlfriend, mind you.

"You've been my best friend for _ten years_. Ten years tomorrow. Have you realized? Well, I guess we hadn't called ourselves best friends 'til later, but anyway..." He smiles ruefully, realizing he was beginning a rant. "I've never met anybody else like you, Tara, and I probably won't ever. There's nobody else I trust more, nobody else I will run to for something to talk to. You're the only person who can finish my sentences and know my opinion on things before I say it. And you'd think I'd be bothered by that, and I'm not. If there's anybody I would share my world with, it's you. You know that, right?"

"Of course," I murmur, squeezing his hand.

"So, then -" He is drawing away and – goodness – getting down on one knee. He pulls out the little box but I knew he was already going to pull it out before he did.

I've expected this. I've known it was coming and I've imagined the moment during which this would happen. A million things flash through my mind. Riegan and me. In Hazelle's garden. Mud-fights. The first time he called me Miss Mellark. The painting that _still _hangs up in my room. The emails that have flooded my inbox. Elation at being reunited, every single time. The first time he kissed me on the cheek. The first time he kissed me, in front of Teenan, Lynn, and Keley. On and on and on and on – memory after memory. Not one moment have I ever hated this man. For all the while I have trusted him, I have never stopped trusting him. How was there two years when I doubted I loved him? _How _did we not recognize it? Why was I so reluctant? Of course I love him! I always have.

So, when he asks with flourish, "Will you marry me, Miss Tara?"

I say, "Of _course –_ yes, I'll marry you!"

And then, after the flood from my eyes has finished, and I've kissed him in such a way that Camellia would have hit me over the head with a bat, I say urgently, "Wait! There's something important that you _have _to promise!"

Riegan looks alarmed. "What? Yes, of course – what is it?"

"You won't stop calling me _Miss _Tara, will you?" I ask. "You won't start calling me _Mrs. Riegan _or anything, are you?" Gosh, that sounds nice, though.

He bursts out laughing, and bends down to pull a dandelion out of the ground. "Of course not. I promise." He tucks the dandelion behind my ear and adds gently, "Miss Tara."

* * *

I put my hands on my hips. "I called her up for dinner _five _minutes ago. Where is she?"

"Want me to go get her?" Riegan asks, from his position beside the oven, leaning against the counter. We've long accepted that neither of us can cook, but Riegan does learn faster. So, he's the cook in our household. Anyway, Camellia, as our judge, has long decided that he makes better lasagna.

"No, I'll do it," I say, "you can continue cooking." I muse on the _normal _life I'm leading as I go up the stairs. Here I am, married two years in September, and when Mother was married two years she was still fighting nightmares. Also, she was still fighting any idea of children. I'm still looking forward to the idea of kids. I make do with Camellia for now, though; she sleeps over so often that she has her own room in our home. Riegan and I didn't make the choice we didn't have to make. In the fall and winter, we're in a split-level apartment in District Two, not far away from Riegan's family. During the rest of the year, we splurged to live in a Victor's Village home - originally, I hated the idea of spending so much on a house, especially since we already have the apartment, but he shot me down and now we're living in Number Nine.

We live across the street from the Domitillas, just to let you know. Felix doesn't live there anymore, though; he's moved to the Capitol, where his future opens up into a more glamorous lifestyle. Don't even ask me who his girlfriend is now, because it changes every week or something.

As for Rysnna and Finn, they've beat us to it again. I always figured they'd have beautiful babies, so I don't know why it surprised me when I met baby Tiegan, who is going to grow up with the airs of Matz and Riegan, I'll bet you anything. He's the perfect mix for a heart breaker. The Odairs were more than happy to name him after Riegan, who downright refused. "It'll be confusing," he argued, "and the baby won't appreciate it when he grows up." So Rysnna and Finn found the next best thing and put my name into it. Riegan joked once that "Fisnna isn't a very nice name, though." So I'm _not _naming my future baby Fisnna. It sounds like a species of fish, or a plant like hens-and-chicks.

"Camellia, it's dinnertime," I say, knocking on the door, which Riegan painted it pink a few months ago.

"I'm not hungry!"

Weird. We _always _eat dinner together. "Well, too bad. I told you not to eat all those candies this afternoon..."

"I'm not hungry, Tara, go away!"

There we go. Now, I _know _she's upset. "What's wrong, Camie?"

"Nothing! Go away!'

Where have I heard that before? "Nice try." I try and twist the door knob, and sure enough, it's been locked. I smile and say, "You do know I have a key, right?"

"... Tara, please leave me alone?"

"Only if you tell me what's wrong."

"Come in..." she sighs, and I pull the key out of my pocket to unlock the door. She huddles under her blankets in a way that's so familiar I have to stifle a giggle. On her bed is a quilt that the two of us weren't very successful at making; it's still special to her and she claims she can't sleep without it even though she's twelve and she's much too old to have something she can't sleep without. At least, in Riegan's opinion.

I sit down on the edge of her bed and I recall the other women who have done that before me. Mother. Lira. "What's wrong?"

"It's immature," she mutters, surfacing from beneath the layers of blankets.

"I'm not Riegan. I won't mind."

"Are you going to have a baby?"

Startled, I say, "Well, uh -"

"You are!" she cries, and for some reason, she looks upset by this. She looks like she might start crying. I haven't even said I _am _going to have a baby. "I _knew _it, and I mean, why not? You've been married two years and even before then everybody expected you to have a baby -" That's true, actually. Even before I was married everybody started asking stupid questions like, _when's the baby coming? _because for some reason you're married and everyone expects a baby, "- and you and Riegan _should _have babies but I'm still - I'm still -"

"Still what?"

She pulls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on the left one. "It's so stupid! I know you're going to say that you're going to still love me and everything like that, and you'll still be my big sister and Riegan will still be my big brother, but it won't be the same! You'll have your own baby and she'll probably even have _this _room instead of me, and -"

"Whoa, whoa," I say, taken aback. "Camellia, I'm not having a baby."

"You're... not?" she falters.

"Not yet, anyway," I amend, "but when I do it's nothing for you to be worried about."

"Yes, it is," she mumbles. "I won't be ... important to you anymore." Yeah, she's right. Riegan _would _have scorned at that.

I shake my head and pull her to me, stroking her hair. "You'll always be my little sister. When you were born that was what I looked forward to most. Having someone who was basically a sister to me, and you _are_. I've loved being an older sister to you, and apparently you've liked that, too."

"I have," she says, looking up at me.

I smile. "Well, if ever I have a baby, I want _you _to be the baby's older sister. I want the baby to be as important to you as you are to me."

"Okay," she sighs.

I give her a kiss on the forehead. "Good. Now, dinner time. It's lasagna."

"Lasagna?" Camellia shoots out of my arms and down the stairs. "Riegan, you better not have eaten any yet!"

* * *

"Tara, can I take her to the Meadow?" she asks breathlessly.

Riegan says, "Camellia, she's a _baby_, not a doll."

"Camellia will take care of her," I say, letting Camellia hold baby Primrose, "and anyway, we'll be right here. We can see them."

"I won't go too far," Camellia assures her brother, holding the baby like she's held a thousand babies, before. "Tieg, you want to come?"

"Yeth!" Waddling on chubby little toddler legs, adorable two year-old Tiegan Odair struggles to follow Camellia and her long legs. She's fourteen, and she's just a few inches from my height, now. Camellia _swears _she's not going to get any taller. Beside me, I have this feeling that Rysnna, Finn, Riegan, and Matz are musing on the same things I am.

Mother, who was standing behind my chair, says, "Aren't you glad that Tiegan and Primrose won't grow up to be Children of Warriors, dandelion?"

I smile. "Very happy about that." I turn around and look up at her. "I am happy I was one, though."

She smiles back and gives me a kiss on the forehead, even though I'm nearly thirty - goodness. She leaves without another word and I continue stare after them. I close my eyes and remember the moment of Camellia's birth, staring into her eyes and predicting a moment like this. When she would hold _my _baby, followed by the little boy of my other friends. They three of them play on a graveyard that won't haunt them like it's haunted my parents, or like it's haunted me. It's now just a playground. But I won't let it be forgotten. Of course, we will tell them their grandparents' story. The difference is, to them, it will be a fascinating and entrancing bedtime story. It won't be like missing a leg, like it was for Finn. It won't be the supposedly ready-built personality that it was for Rysnna. It won't be the tough and hateful persona that represented Riegan. And it won't confuse them about love, like it did for me.

It won't be forgotten, though. It won't scare them. We'll tell them in a way that will make them stronger.

I give a quiet sigh, because thinking about that just reminds me how much I am like Mother. I still am, after all these years. I'm like Father, too, noticing beauty in everything and accepting it the way it is. But I'm still little Katniss Everdeen to the world. I'm just grown up, now.

Katniss Everdeen, with her courage and determination. Ready to take pain in place of someone she loves. To tie herself to death, in place of a little sister of whom she loved. To take a whip, for her best friend. I look at the Hawthorne ahead of me and the one beside me and I know that it would be the same for me.

The girl on fire, Katniss Everdeen, with her cold and calculating fighting spirit, had turned into my mother, Katniss Mellark, who the birds will stop to listen to.

"Riegan?" I say quietly, leaning closer to him. He looks expectantly at me. "I've reached an enlightenment."

"Do share."

I take a deep breath. "It's taken nearly thirty years, but I've discovered that being like Katniss Everdeen is a good thing."

"And... why is that?" He arches a brow.

I smile. "Because being like Katniss Everdeen means... that I am strong."

_**The end**._

–

In my head this is what I called "your" epilogue. All the while I've had the idea that the previous chapter wouldn't suffice for my dear readers, so I have this fluffball for you all :) I hope you enjoyed going through this past month with me and Tara and Riegan and all of the next generation of the Hunger Games (from my head, anyway) :) I've had fun writing it... challenging myself to figure out what's going to happen, reading your guys' opinions, and yes, updating everyday. Haha. THANKS so much for reading all the way to the end :D

If you don't totally hate my writing, I have another Hunger Games fic, Even Without the Games, which is about how I think Katniss & Peeta still would have happened... Even Without the Games :P I just read My First Date with Katniss Everdeen and I feel like such a ripoff haha. I swear, I hadn't read it, yet!

And, so we can end this (maybe) on the right note:

**Tell me why you love it, why you hate it, just tell me what you think! (The button's right down there.)**


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